DISCOURSES ON TRUTH. 



DELIVERED IN THE 



CHAPEL OF THE SOUTH CAROLINA COLLEGE. 



JAMES H. THORNWEIL, D.D., 



PRESIDENT AND CHAPLAIN. 



NEW YORK: 

ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, 
No. 285 BROADWAY. 

1855. 




Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1854, by 
ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, 
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the 
Southern District of New York. 



STJURKOTYPBD BY 

THOMAS B. SMITH 
216 William St., N. Y. 



PRINTED BY 

E. O. JENKINS, 
114 Nassau Street. 



TO THE 

STUDENTS OF THE SOUTH CAROLINA COLLEGE, 

WHOSE HIGH CHARACTER FOR TRUTH 

REFLECTS THE GREATEST HONOR UPON THEMSELVES 
AND THE STATE, 

THESE DISCOURSES, 

ORIGINALLY PREPARED FOR THEIR BENEFIT, 
ARE NOW AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. 



f r z f a t * ♦ 



This unpretending little volume consists of a 
series of Discourses, preached in the ordinary routine 
of the author's ministrations, as Chaplain of the 
South Carolina College. He has ventured to pub- 
lish them, because the young men who heard them 
thought that they derived benefit from them; and 
as the subject is eminently adapted to the case of 
the youthful student, it did not seem presumptuous 
to hope, that what had been useful here, might also 
be productive of good beyond the walls of the Col- 
lege. The times require some such discussion as 
that which is here attempted. The author is by no 
means sanguine, however, of any other success than 
that which may be found in the cordial approbation 
of his own pupils. They will accept the work in 
the spirit in which it has been written ; and if it 
shall have the effect of imbuing their minds with 



Vi PREFACE. 

that generous love of truth, which constitutes the 
noblest inspiration of the scholar — if it shall lead 
them to Him, who is the fountain of truth, and 
to the study of that eternal Word, which is the only 
infallible message of truth, he will feel that he has 
not labored in vain, whatever reception his little 
manual may experience at the hands of strangers 
and critics. The structure of the sermons may be 
explained by the circumstance, that the author sus- 
tains the double office in the College of a Preacher 
of the Gospel, and a Teacher of Moral Philosophy. 
It is his custom to make the pulpit and the lecture- 
room subservient to each other. "With these brief 
statements he sends the book into the world to speak 
for itself; and he earnestly prays that He whose 
prerogative alone it is to bless, and who can accom- 
plish the purposes of His grace, as well by the 
feeblest as the mightiest instrument, may make it 
speak with power to the understandings and con- 
sciences of all into whose hands it may chance to 
come. 



CONTENT- S. 



I. 

PAGE 

THE ETHICAL SYSTEM OF THE BIBLE 9 

II. 

THE LOVE OF TRUTH 54 

in. 

THE LOVE OF TRUTH 94 

IV. 

SINCERITY 140 

V. 

FAITHFULNESS 183 

VI. 

vows 239 

VII. 

CONSISTENCY 290 



€|i dttjnral BpUm of t|t |Mf. 



"Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true — think on these 



ation of the principal duties of morality. 
The Apostle has been supposed to refer to 
the different systems which were discussed in 
the schools of Greek philosophy, analogous to 
those which have divided the inquirers of 
modern times. It is remarkable that his lan- 
guage admits of an easy application to the 
prominent theories of virtue, which have been 
proposed in Europe, within the last two cen- 
turies. One, for example, places it essentially 
in conformity with truth ; another in beauty, 
corresponding perhaps to the Apostle's hon- 
esty ; another in obedience to nature and 

reason ; another in disinterested benevolence, 

1* 



things. 



i." — Philippians, iv. 8. 



DISC. I.] 



The passage, of which these 
words are a part, is an enumer- 



10 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



and others still in a comprehensive prudence. 
Similar theories obtained among the ancients. 
Aristotle and Plato have been reproduced in 
the speculations of Clarke, Cudworth and 
Price ; the Epicureans and Sophists in the 
Utilitarians, and the Stoics in Butler, Reid 
and Stewart. The import of the Apostle's 
advice, upon the supposition that he refers to 
these disputes, is interpreted to be ; — think 
upon these speculations, bring them to the 
standard of the Divine testimony, try them 
by the doctrines which I have taught you, 
and whatsoever they contain in keeping with 
the genius and temper of Christianity, that 
appropriate and practise. Prove all things ; 
hold fast that which is good. 

Ingenious and plausible as this exposition 
appears to be, it is not, I apprehend, sustain- 
ed by the context. It is rather the dictate of 
fancy, than the result of sober and unbiassed 
criticism. The design of the Apostle, it rather 
seems to me, was to recapitulate several 
prominent heads of duty, to single out certain 
great characteristics of virtue, and to recom- 



OF THE BIBLE. 



II 



mend every thing in which these characterise 
tics were found. He is giving the outlines 
of an exemplary man, and accordingly seizes 
upon the fundamental elements of morality, 
those data of consciousness which every sys- 
tem must acknowledge — which constitute the 
touchstone and standard of all speculations 
upon right, — and inculcates as duty every 
thing in which these elements essentially enter 
as constituents. The first is truth ; whatsoever 
things are true. He assumes the inherent 
rectitude of veracity, its indispensable and 
eternal obligation, and enjoins upon his read- 
ers to cultivate a spirit that shall reverence 
and exemplify this obligation in the whole 
extent of its application. He next signalizes 
dignity of character, the principle of self- 
respect, which saves a man from the contempt 
of his fellows by protecting him from all that 
is little, or mean, or indecent in deportment. 
Whatsoever things are honest ' rather what- 
soever things are venerable, or truly honour- 
able ; whatsoever is calculated to command 
respect, or deserves veneration and estee.n. 



12 THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 

Then comes the master-principle of justice, 
or righteousness, without which all preten- 
sions to integrity are vain and unmeaning. 
This is the solid basis of an upright charac- 
ter : whatsoever things are just It is not 
enough, however, that our words and actions 
should be exempt from censure — the heart 
must be kept with all diligence — the streams 
must be healed at the fountain. The Apos- 
tle, accordingly, as his Master had done before 
him, insists upon inward purity, the regula- 
tion of the thoughts, appetites and affections, 
so as to prevent the contamination of aught 
that is unholy or defiling. Whatsoever things 
are pure. Under this head are obviously 
included temperance, chastity and modesty. 
The things that are lovely comprehend every- 
thing that is fitted to conciliate or express 
the sentiment of affection and esteem. It 
embraces such duties as benevolence, urban- 
ity, courtesy, affability and sweetness of tem- 
per. Whatever, in other words, springs from 
love in us, and generates love in others. 
The things of good report, I am inclined to 



OF THE BIBLE. 



13 



think, have reference to those matters, in- 
different in themselves, by means of which 
we can recommend our persons and our 
cause to the confidence and good-will of 
others. They not only require the ordinary 
duties of politeness, but exact compliance 
with innocent customs and harmless prej- 
udices, where a failure to comply would ex- 
pose us to unjust censures. They exclude 
repulsive austerity and studied singularity 
of manner, and every species of affectation 
or pretension. Here ends the specific enu- 
meration ; but as there might be virtues 
which are included under none of these 
heads, the Apostle, that he may omit no- 
thing, extends his injunction to them. If 
there be any virtue, and if there be any 
praise — if there be any thing which a good 
man ought to observe — any thing right or 
praise-worthy, that cannot be reduced to any 
of these categories, — it is to receive the 
Christian man's attention. His religion com- 
prehends all duty. 

This passage, then, according to the inter- 



14 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



pretation which has been given, exhibits the 
model of character which Christianity pro- 
poses to its followers, and which their Chris- 
tian profession exacts of them, that they shall 
steadily endeavour to realize. It is the Apos- 
tle's picture of an exemplary man. 

As a specimen of the richness and compass 
of Scripture morality, I shall single out the 
duty of Truth, and make it the subject of 
a series of discourses. Before entering upon 
them, however, I deem it not unimportant to 
make a few remarks upon the ethical teach- 
ings of the Scriptures, with a view to de- 
termine what there is that is peculiar to 
revelation, and what is the real nature and 
extent of our obligations to the Bible. This 
will lead us to a just estimate of secular 
morality, and, perhaps, impress us with a 
deeper sense of the priceless value of the 
Gospel. It is precisely because they do not 
comprehend the ethical relations of Chris- 
tianity, that many of the educated men of the 
country undervalue its importance. If asked 
what it is, and what it proposes to do for 



OF THE BIBLE. 



15 



men, and what kind of offices it exacts 
from them, it is amazing how crude and 
ill-digested their notions would oftentimes 
appear to be. 

1. So far as the simple knowledge of duty 
is concerned, we may err, on the one hand, 
by exaggerating the necessity of revelation, 
and, on the other, by exaggerating the suffi- 
ciency of reason. There can be no doubt 
that morality is a subject which falls within 
the province of natural light. To say that 
we are dependent on the word and oracle of 
God, as Bacon seems to insinuate,* " not only 
in those points of faith which concern the 
great mysteries of the Deity, of the creation, 
of the redemption, but likewise those which 
concern the law moral truly interpreted;" to 
say that we can have, from the dictates of 
conscience, only negative conceptions of rec- 
titude " sufficient to check the vice, but not 
to inform the duty," is to contradict alike 
the testimony of Scripture and the expe- 

* Advancement of Learning. Works, vol. ii. p. 300, — Mon- 
tagu. 



16 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



rience of mankind. " For, when the Gentiles, 
which have not the law, do by nature the 
things contained in the law, these having 
not the law are a law unto themselves." A 
being without the sense of obligation, and 
a spontaneous recognition of the fundamental 
differences of right and wrong, could not be 
responsible. He could not form the remotest 
notion of duty, and the language of authority 
and law might as well be addressed to stocks 
and stones. The elemental principles of right, 
therefore, which are involved in the very 
conception of a moral nature, must be con- 
ceded to man as man. They are the birth- 
rights of his being, and not the legacy of a 
subsequent revelation. An intelligent crea- 
ture, without primitive beliefs to determine 
and regulate the operations of the cognitive 
faculties, would be no greater absurdity 
than a moral and responsible creature with- 
out primitive laws of right to determine and 
regulate the operations of moral judgment. 
But it is equally an error to maintain that, 
because the Scriptures presuppose the moral 



OF THE BIBLE. 



17 



constitution of man, they are of little or no 
importance, considered as a rule of life. It 
is one thing to say that reason is a law, and 
another to say that it is a perfect law. In 
our present fallen condition, it is impossible 
to excogitate a standard of duty which shall 
be warped by none of our prejudices, dis- 
torted by none of our passions, and corrupted 
by none of our habits. We are liable to as 
great perversions of the original principles 
of right as of the original principles of 
truth. The elements of reason have no 
power to secure their just application. There 
never has appeared an absolutely perfect rule 
of duty among any nations, however civilized 
and cultivated, that were destitute of revela- 
tion. It is only of the law of the Lord, as 
contained in the Scriptures, that we can justly 
say, it is perfect. There are two respects in 
which every natural system of morality is 
likely to be found wanting. In the first place, 
the difficulty of re-producing in reflection the 
spontaneous processes of conscience, and of 
seizing upon its fundamental laws in their 



18 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



integrity and completeness, renders it next 
to impossible, that the verbal generalizations 
of philosophy shall exactly represent the oper- 
ations of the mind. Something is apt to be 
omitted or added. The danger is enhanced 
by the difficulty of distinguishing betwixt 
prejudices of education and natural principles; 
it is easy to confound a crotchet with a 
principle, to make a maxim of a habit of 
thought. In the next place, the application 
of these fundamental laws, supposing them 
properly eliminated, to the concrete cases of 
life, requires great delicacy and caution. We 
are as likely to go wrong, from misapplying a 
true principle, as from adopting a false one. 
The heathen father admits the great law of 
parental affection ; he misapplies it when he 
murders his infant child, to save him from 
the miseries of life. The heathen son recog- 
nizes the duty of filial piety ; he reasons badly 
upon it when he puts his aged parents to 
death. Here our depravity exerts its power ; 
it is a constant temptation to pervert the 
original principle of right, to make light dark- 



OF THE BIBLE. 



19 



ness, and darkness light. It is here, too, that 
the principal defects of every natural scheme 
of morality are exhibited. True principles 
are falsely applied. We make crimes of duties 
and duties of crimes. It is not so much that 
the law is wrong ; that the prime data are 
questionable, though they are often defective, 
as that the law is not legitimately carried out 
— its proper applications are not seen — limit- 
ations and exceptions are superinduced by 
our circumstances, and we envelope ourselves 
in a cloud, and the result is, that a deceived 
heart turns us aside. The Scriptures, as an 
authoritative rule of duty, guard against these 
defects. They prescribe the law in its ful- 
ness and integrity — they illustrate its appli- 
cation by description and example — they in- 
dicate the prejudices which are likely to per- 
vert us, and signalize the spirit which will 
always ensure obedience. By the infallibility 
of their results, they are of inestimable value 
to the moral philosopher himself. When his 
speculations contradict their statements, he 
knows that there is an. error in his processes 



20 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



— he retraces his steps and continues to 
renew his investigations, until he discovers 
the secret of his miscarriage. They serve the 
same purpose to him, which the answer to 
its sum serves to the child in learning his 
arithmetic. They are at once a guide and a 
check to his speculations. Paley* has dep- 
reciated the sufficiency of the Scriptures as a 
rule, from the absurd notion, that if they were 
admitted to be complete, they would dispense 
with the use of moral philosophy. He took 
it for granted that the sole business of phi- 
losophy was to furnish rules; and, of course, 
if they are already furnished to our hands, 
there is no need for its investigations. To 
save, therefore, the credit of the science 
which he had undertaken to expound, he 
has impugned the value of the ethical teach- 
ings of the Bible. His argument is curious ; 
he has very singularly confounded moral 
philosophy with the moral constitution of 
man, and because the Scriptures u presuppose, 
in the persons to whom they speak, a knowl- 

* Moral and Political Philosophy. Book i. chap. 4. 



OF THE BIBLE. 



21 



edge of the principles of natural justice ;" 
that is, because they pre-suppose a conscience, 
or a sense of the fundamental differences of 
right and wrong, he gravely concludes, that 
they exact of men, in order to be understood, 
some tincture of philosophy. But it is one 
thing to be a moral agent, and quite another 
to be a moral philosopher. The Scriptures 
certainly expect that those to whom they 
speak, are possessed of those principles of 
practical common sense, without which their 
instructions are utterly unmeaning and absurd. 
But to possess these principles is not to be a 
philosopher. Philosophy implies reflection, 
speculation — it is thought questioning the 
spontaneous processes of mind — thought re- 
turning upon itself, and seeking the nature, 
authority and criterion of its own laws. A 
man may have all that Dr. Paley ascribes to 
him, without having once reflected upon the 
mysterious furniture, or asked himself a single 
question, which properly belongs to the do- 
main of philosophy. The Scriptures, conse- 
quently, in prescribing an adequate and per- 



22 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



feet rule of life, are far from dispensing with 
speculation. They leave untouched its pe- 
culiar work. The moral nature, in its phe- 
nomenal variety and essential unity, still in- 
vites the researches of the curious ; and the 
more it is studied, the more conspicuous will 
appear the absolute sufficiency of the Bible. 
The law of the Lord is perfect. 

2. The superior efficiency of the Bible is 
universally conceded by all who admit a reve- 
lation at all. It teaches duty with greater cer- 
tainty, and enforces it by motives of greater 
power. Dr. Paley thinks this the great merit 
of the Scriptures; and that it is a merit of 
incalculable importance, will at once appear, 
by reflecting on the tendency of temptation 
to blind the mind to the truth of the law, or 
the danger of the consequences. Whatever 
certifies the rule, or illustrates the misery of 
disobedience, assaults temptation in its strong 
hold, and strips transgression of its favourite 
plea. The certainty of the law is put beyond 
question in the Scriptures, because it rests 
upon the immediate authority of God. It is 



OF THE BIBLE. 



23 



not a deduction of reason to be questioned, 
but a Divine command to be obeyed. The 
power of the sanctions is found in the unlimit- 
ed control which He, who promulgates the 
law, possesses of the invisible world. The 
legal motives of the Scriptures are projected 
on a scale of inconceivable grandeur. The 
Bible deals with the vast, the awful, the bound- 
less. If it addresses our hopes and proposes 
the prospect of future happiness, it is an ex- 
ceeding, an eternal weight of glory it dispen- 
ses. Does it remind us of a judgment to come ? 
God is the Judge, earth and hell the subjects ; 
angels spectators, and the complexion of 
eternity the doom. Does it address our fears ? 
It reminds us of a worm that never dies — a 
fire that is never quenched — the blackness of 
darkness forever. It is a grand system ; it 
springs from the bosom of an infinite God, and 
opens a field of infinite interests. Eternity 
is the emphasis it gives to its promises, the 
terror it imparts to its curse. Conscience, 
under the tuition of nature, may dread the 
future; it is the prerogative of revelation 



24 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



alone to lay it bare. Conscience may tremble, 
but revelation alone can show how justly its 
fears have been excited. Hence the Bible is 
without a rival, when it speaks in the lan- 
guage of command. It wields the thunder 
of infinite power, as well as utters the voice 
of infinite righteousness. Still, its mightiest 
sanctions are not what may be be called 
its legal motives. The scheme of redemp- 
tion, in its conception and evolution, is a 
sublime commentary upon the sacredness 
and supremacy of right, which, while it re- 
veals the ineffable enormity of sin, presents 
the character of God in such an aspect of 
venerable grandeur, that holiness becomes 
awful and majestic, and we insensibly adore 
under the moral impression which it makes. 
He that stands beneath the cross and under- 
stands the scene, dares not sin — not because 
there is a hell beneath him, or an angry God 
above him, but because holiness is felt to 
reign there — the ground on which he treads 
is sacred — the glory of the Lord encircles 
him, and, like Moses, he must remove the 



OF THE BIBLE. 



25 



shoes from his feet. The cross is a venerable 
spot; I love to linger around it, not merely 
that I may read my title to everlasting life, 
but that I may study the greatness of God. I 
use the term advisedly. God never appears 
to be so truly great, so intensely holy, as 
when, from the pure energy of principle, He 
gives Himself, in the person of His Son, to 
die, rather than that his character should be 
impugned. Who dares prevaricate with moral 
distinctions, and talk of death as a greater 
evil than dishonour, when God, the mighty 
Maker, died rather than that truth or justice 
should be compromised ? Who, at the foot 
of Calvary, can pronounce sin to be a slight 
matter ? Here, then, lies the most impressive 
sanction of Revelation. Not content to pro- 
mulgate the law with absolute certainty, to 
put under tribute the whole resources of the 
invisible world, to lay its hand upon eternity, 
and make heaven and hell its ministers ; it 
rises yet higher, and seeks to impress us with 
a subduing sense of the sacredness of right — 

to make us feel how awful goodness is ; it 

2 



26 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



reveals its inherent greatness — unveils its 
ineffable glory. It does not describe it, but 
shows it, and we return from the cross with 
emotions similar to those of Moses, when the 
name of the Lord was proclaimed, and the 
goodness of the Lord passed before him in 
the cleft of the rock. It is the scheme of 
redemption which crowns the ethical teach- 
ings of the Bible. The lesson is sealed at 
the cross — there, and there only, do we shud- 
der at sin for its own sake, and reverence 
right for itself. 

3. But, impressive as the general truths of 
morality are rendered by the tragedy of re- 
demption, that would be an inadequate view 
of the extent of its contributions, which 
stopped at this point. It goes beyond giv- 
ing certainty and power to the doctrines of 
nature. It teaches lessons, and lessons of in- 
calculable value, which philosophy could 
never have dreamed of. It opens a new 
chapter in the book of Ethics, and invites 
us to speculations as refreshing by their 
novelty as they are invigorating by their truth. 



OF THE BIBLE. 



27 



It is not sufficiently recollected that the doc- 
trines of the Scriptures in relation to the des- 
tiny of man, the nature of holiness, and the 
means of grace, are answers to the very ques- 
tions which were earnestly and anxiously 
agitated in the schools of ancient wisdom, and 
which the sages of Greece and Rome proved 
themselves incompetent to solve. I am 
ashamed to add, that they are answers which 
multitudes, with the Bible in their hands, 
have failed to comprehend, and have con- 
sequently been left to grope, as if struck by 
judicial blindness, in a thicker darkness than 
ever enshrouded the gifted minds of pagan- 
ism. There is a tenfold nearer approxima- 
tion to the teachings of the Bible in Aristotle 
than there is in Paley — more affinity with the 
Gospel in Cicero than in the whole tribe of 
utilitarians. 

1. First, in regard to happiness, which is 
universally conceded to be the chief good of 
man, the conceptions of the Scriptures are 
noble and exalted. The nearest approxima- 
tion which has been made by unassisted rea- 



28 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



son to their doctrine, is in the philosophy 
of Aristotle. He failed to compass the whole 
truth, only because man, by wisdom, cannot 
find out God. He saw enough, however, to 
impress us with a sense of the greatness of 
his genius, and to make us feel that, even 
amid the ruins of the fall, there are yet traces 
of our ancient grandeur, and dim forebodings 
of our future glory. He has taught us 
enough to make us accept joyfully those fuller 
disclosures of the Bible which illuminate what 
in him and nature is dark, and "what is low 
raise and support." 

I do not know that I can set the benefit of 
revelation in a clearer light than by sketching 
the doctrine of Aristotle, pointing out its 
defects, and contrasting the whole truth with 
the miserable sentiments which prevail, to the 
corruption of society and the degradation of 
the age in which we live. His fundamental 
notion is, that happiness consists in virtuous 
energies — that it is not mere pleasure — not 
the gratification which results from the pos- 
session of an object congruous to our desires. 



OF THE BIBLE. 



29 



That is good only in a very subordinate sense, 
which simply ministers to enjoyment. The 
chief good must be something pursued ex- 
clusively for its own sake, and never for the 
sake of anything else ; it can never be used 
as an instrument ; it must be perfect and self- 
sufficient. What, then, is the highest good 
of man ? To answer this question, says Aris- 
totle, we must understand the proper business 
of man, as man. As there is a work which 
pertains to the musician, the statuary, the 
artist, which constitues the good or end of 
his profession, so there must be some work 
which belongs to man, not as an individual, 
not as found in such and such circumstances 
and relations, but belongs to him absolutely as 
man. Now, what is this ? It must be some- 
thing which springs from the peculiarities 
of his nature, and which he cannot share 
with the lower orders of being. It cannot, 
therefore, be life,' — for plants have that; 
neither can it be the pleasures of sensitive 
existence, for brutes have them. It must be 
sought in the life of a being possessed of 



30 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



reason ; and as that can be contemplated in a 
two-fold aspect, either as a state, or as an ex- 
ercise ; as the possession of faculties, or the 
putting forth of their activities ; we must pitch 
upon the most important, which is activity or 
energy, or as he also styles it, obedience to rea- 
son. Energy, therefore, according to reason, 
is characteristic of man. This is his business, 
and he who pursues it best, is the best man. 
Human good, or the good of man as man, is 
consequently energy according to the best 
and most perfect virtue. 

This is a brief outline of what I regard 
as one of the finest discussions in the whole 
compass of ancient philosophy.* The no- 
tion is predominant that happiness implies 
the perfection of our nature, and that per- 
fection, not so much in the habits consider- 
ed as so many states, but in the unimpeded 
exercise of the faculties themselves. The 
being properly exerted is their good. Hap- 
piness, therefore, is not something impart- 
ed to the soul from without — it springs 

* Mcliom. Etbicks. Lib. i. c. 7. 



OF THE BIBLE. 



31 



from the soul itself — it is the very glow 
of its life. It is to the mind what health 
is to the body — the regular and harmonious 
action of all the functions of the frame. 
It is not a gratification, not the pleasure 
which results from the correspondence be- 
tween an object and a faculty — it is the 
very heat and fervour of spiritual life. All 
this is strikingly in accordance with the 
doctrine of Scripture. Happiness there, too, 
is represented as consisting in moral per- 
fection, and moral perfection in virtuous 
energies. It is a well of water within the 
man, springing up to everlasting life. It is 
treated as an image of the blessedness of 
God; and when we remember the ceaseless 
activity of the Divine nature — my Father 
worheth hitherto and I ivork — there cannot 
be a more convincing proof that felicity 
consists in energies. To be happy is not to 
be torpid; it is not a state of indolent re- 
pose, nor of the passive reception of ex- 
traneous influences. It is to be like God, 
who never slumbers nor sleeps, who fainteth 



32 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



not, neither is weary. This is the great 
thought of the Bible. The defect of Aristotle 
lies in this, that he has not explained how 
these virtuous energies are to be elicited 
and sustained in a course of unimpeded ac- 
tion. We cannot think without thinking 
something ; we cannot love, we cannot praise, 
we cannot exercise any virtuous affection, 
without exercising it upon- something. An 
abstraction wants life, and finite objects 
limit, condition, and obstruct our energies. 
Besides this, as we shall subsequently see, the 
fundamental principle of virtue is love, and 
love implies the existence of a person with 
whom we are united in intimate fellowship. 
Communion is indispensable to the energy 
of holiness, and that the energy may be un- 
impeded, the person with whom we are in 
union, must be worthy of the intensest affec- 
tions of which we are susceptible. He must 
himself be the perfect good. Now, the Scrip- 
tures propose the fellowship of God as the 
consummation of felicity. We may concen- 
trate upon Him all the faculties of our nature. 



OF THE BIBLE. 33 

He can evoke their intensest activities — give 
them full scope, and never put a period to 
their flow. His favour is life, and His loving- 
kindness better than life. I shall be satisfied 
when I awake in thy likeness. That man's 
chief end is to glorify God, and enjoy Him 
forever — that this and this only is happiness ; 
that we enjoy as we glorify ; that the very 
going forth of our energies upon Him, the 
ever-blessed, is itself blessedness — this is the 
doctrine which lies at the basis of the ethical 
system of the Gospel It is a doctrine which 
philosophy never could have discovered, but 
which it pronounces to be just as soon as the 
terms are understood. We are so familiar 
with the statement of it, we have it so often 
on our lips, or hear it so often from the desk, 
that we do not enter into the depth of mean- 
ing it contains. In itself it is a grand 
thought — a noble and exalted privilege. Fel- 
lowship with God! the real communion of 
our minds with His — what tongue can ex- 
press it — what heart adequately conceive it ! 

and yet this honour have all the saints. It is 

2* 



34 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



not a figure, not a flourish of rhetoric, — no 
dream of the mystic. It is a great fact ; and 
in reflecting upon it, I have often been im- 
pressed with the words of a dying saint : 
" Preach it at my funeral, publish it at my 
burial, that the Lord converses familiarly with 
man." His secret is indeed with them that 
fear Him, and He will show them His cove- 
nant. How coarse and degrading, by the side 
of this doctrine, do those views of happiness 
appear, which make it consist in pleasure ! 
which, instead of setting man upon the im- 
provement of himself, the perfection of his 
nature, and the expansion of his energies 
in communion with God, sends him in quest 
of the beggarly elements of earth, which all 
are to perish in the using. There cannot 
be a greater obstruction to the pursuit of 
real happiness, than the love of pleasure. It 
relaxes and debilitates the mind — destroys the 
tone of the spirit — superinduces languor upon 
all the faculties; it is the grave of energy. 
Hence is that of Scripture ; she that liveth in 
pleasure is dead while she liveth. If happiness 



OF THE BIBLE. 



35 



is an adumbration of the blessedness of God — 
and it must be so, — -if it is the glory of man 
to bear the image of God — the whole subject 
is manifestly degraded, when it is reduced to 
the analogy of the enjoyment of a brute. Take 
the account which is given by Paley,* and 
happiness consists not only in a succession of 
pleasurable sensations, but sensations imme- 
diately connected with the body. It is a sort 
of tickling in the region of the heart. He 
openly declares, too, that there is no essential 
difference among pleasures but that of in- 
tensity and continuance. The main thing is 
enjoyment ; and so a man enjoys himself, he 
need ask no further question. The superiority 
of the soul to the body, the coarseness of 
some, and the excellence of other pleasures 
— the dignity and refinement of moral, in- 
tellectual and spiritual gratifications — all this 
is idle declamation. He that scratches with 
the itch, experiences as noble satisfaction as 
he that rejoices in charity, or whose soul 
turns upon the poles of truth. This funda- 

* Moral and Political Philosophy. Book i., chap. G. 



36 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



mental error, that happiness is pleasure, per- 
vades society. It is the animating spirit of 
the eager and restless struggle for wealth, 
honour and power. It is the grand delusion 
of sin; a delusion, whose potent spell no 
experience has been able to dissolve — no 
reasoning to dissipate. It is the vanity of the 
carnal heart, " every age renews the inquiry 
after an earthly felicity — the design is entail- 
ed, and re-inforced with as great a confidence 
and vigour as if none had been baffled or de- 
feated in it before." Philanthropy projects 
upon it its visionary schemes for the benefit 
of the race, and forgetting that all real im- 
provement must begin within, directs its as- 
saults upon the outward and accidental — aims 
its blows at the social fabric, and seeks to in- 
troduce an order of things which shall equal- 
ly distribute the sources of enjoyment. Let 
all men be equally rich, is the insidious fal- 
lacy, — equally fed, equally clothed, equally 
exalted in social and political condition, and 
like cattle in the same pasture, they must 
all be equally happy. "What serious heart 



OF THE BIBLE. 



87 



doth not melt and bleed for miserable men, 
that are through a just Nemesis so perpetually 
mocked with shadows, cheated with false, 
delusive appearances, infatuated and betrayed 
by their own senses. They walk but in a 
vain show, disquieting themselves in vain, 
their days flee away as a shadow; their 
strength is only labour and sorrow; while 
they rise up early and lie down late to seek 
rest in trouble, and life in death."* Behold I 
show you a more excellent way ; — fear God 
and keep his commandments — for this is the 
whole of man; this is his being's end and 
aim. 

2. Intimately connected with the subject 
of happiness is that of holiness. As happiness 
is an image of the blessedness, so holiness is 
an image of the moral perfections of God. It 
is, consequently, that, in the energies of which, 
happiness must essentially consist. It is God's 
likeness that fits us to see His face. It is, 
therefore, a matter of the very last importance 
that we should know what holiness is ; or, if 

* Howe's Blessedness of the Righteous^ chap. 11. 



38 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



incomprehensible in its essence, that we should 
understand its phenomena and relations. It 
is only from the Bible that we can obtain 
any satisfactory light upon these points. 
Philosophy can discourse of virtues — virtues 
in the habit and virtues in the act — it can 
classify and arrange the duties they exact ; 
but when the question arises as to the unity 
of rectitude, it is utterly unable to answer. 
Truth is right, justice is right, benevolence is 
right, temperance is right, the habits which 
prompt to the observance of these virtues are 
right ; but are all these one and the same 
right ? If one, in what does their unity con- 
sist? The actions of truth are certainly dif- 
ferent from those of temperance ; the actions 
of benevolence are as clearly different from 
those of justice ; the habits are obviously so 
many different subjective states. Where, 
then, is the unity, and why is the same term 
applied in common to them all ? Philosophy 
can only dissect consciousness, and conscious- 
ness can only reveal to us the primitive cog- 
nitions of the moral faculty, which the consti- 



OF THE BIBLE. 



39 



tution of our nature compels to accept as the 
criteria of right. Philosophy, consequently, 
can give no other answer to the question, than 
that all these things, though various in them- 
selves, receive a common name in consequence 
of a common relation to conscience. They are 
all commanded by it. As truth is essentially 
conformity with the laws of the understanding, 
so virtue is essentially conformity with the 
laws of conscience. Here philosophy stops. 
Beyond consciousness it cannot penetrate ; 
and though it may surmise that there is a 
higher unity in which all these laws are ulti- 
mately grounded, it is unable to lay its hand 
upon it, and bring it to light. Here the 
Scriptures come in with their doctrine of 
holiness ; and what philosophy had surmised, 
they abundantly confirm. What, then, is 
holiness ? It is not a single habit ; it is not a 
complement of habits ; — it is a nature, and by 
nature we are to understand, not the collection 
of properties, which distinguish one being 
from another, but a generic disposition which 
determines, modifies and regulates all its ac- 



40 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



tivities and states — the law of its mode of 
existence. It is that out of which habit 
grows, from which every single action ulti- 
mately proceeds. There is a nature in the 
lion, the dog, the tiger, which determines their 
manner of life — a nature in all beings, which 
makes them as they are. Without it there 
could be no character, no habits, no consistent 
operations. All action would be fortuitous 
and arbitrary. In itself we cannot define it, 
belonging as it does to that class of things 
which, incomprehensible in themselves, and 
incapable of being represented in thought, 
are yet matters of necessary belief But as 
there are, within the sphere of our daily ex- 
perience, various generic dispositions, each 
of which serves as the basis of very different 
habits, there is nothing incredible in suppos- 
ing that there may be one great central dis- 
position, in which all others are grounded. 
The general temper of sadness has numberless 
manifestations; the same is true of joy; and 
there may be a temper or tone of mind in 
which all virtuous activities are united. To 



OF THE BIBLE. 



41 



illustrate the all-pervading influence of holi- 
ness as a nature, the Scriptures employ the 
striking analogy of life. When we ask the 
question what is life, we soon become sen- 
sible that we are dealing with a subject that 
eludes the capacity of thought. We cannot 
seize it in itself ; we see its effects ; we wit- 
ness its operations ; we can mark the symp- 
toms which distinguish its presence. But the 
thing itself no mortal mind can apprehend. 
We can only speak of it as the unknown cause 
of numberless phenomena which we notice. 
Where is life ? Is it here and not there ? Is 
it there and not here ? Is it in the heart, the 
head, the hands, the feet ? It evidently per- 
vades the man — it is the condition, the in- 
dispensable condition of the organic action of 
every part of the frame. The body may be 
perfect in its structure: it may have every 
limb, and nerve, and muscle, and foreign in- 
fluences may be made to mimic the operations 
of life ; but if life be not there, these actions, 
or rather motions, are essentially distinct from 
those of the living man. In like manner 



42 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



holiness pervades the soul. Though not a 
habit, nor a collection of habits, it is the in- 
dispensable condition of them all. It is not 
here nor there, but is diffused through the 
whole man — the understanding, the will, the 
conscience, the affections — it underlies all 
dispositions and habitudes, and is felt in all 
the thoughts and desires. All moral qualities 
inhere in it, as properties inhere in substance. 
It is to the moral faculties of man what ex- 
tension is to matter — the very form of their 
existence. 

As natural life has its characteristic func- 
tions, so spiritual life has its distinguishing 
tendencies. They all point to God. The 
very essence of a holy nature is sympathy 
with the Divine perfections — a state of the 
soul which harmonizes with the Divine will — 
which attracts it to God — which produces a 
communion, a fellowship, a familiarity, if I 
may so speak, that instinctively detects the 
impressions of God, wherever they are found. 
It is fundamentally the principle of love to 
Him ; its true expression is that of union with 



OF THE BIBLE. 



43 



Him; and even where there is no direct 
reference to His name, it gives tone and com- 
plexion to all moral and intellectual exercises. 
This love to God, not as a single habit, not as 
a series of particular affections, but as the 
ground-form of all, as the fundamental law 
of their manifestation, is the nearest approach 
we can make to the description of holiness 
as a state. This is the reason why fellowship 
with God must be the perfection of a holy 
being. Love demands it. Communion is the 
life of love ; and this, too, is the reason why 
love is said to be the fulfilling of the law — 
not that benevolence or any individual sen- 
timents of kindness — not even that gratitude 
to God or the adoration and praise of His 
excellencies, as single and independent exer- 
cises, fulfil the law, but that state of the soul 
which is in deepest harmony with God, and 
finds its full manifestation only in a sense of 
union and correspondence with Him, contains 
the elements of all true virtue. Here is their 
centre of unity, and their point of divergence. 
Schleiermacher was right in making the es- 



44 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



sence of religion, subjectively considered, to 
be feeling, in the extended sense which he 
has given to that term ; but he was wrong in 
making that feeling, a sense of absolute de- 
pendence upon God. Had he put love for 
dependence, and distinguished between it as 
a pervading tone of the mind, and as mani- 
fested in special operations, his analysis would 
have coincided substantially with that of the 
beloved Apostle : He thai dwelleth in love 
dwelleth in God and God in him. So also 
there is a subjective unity in sin. Depravity, 
like holiness, is a generic state — the law of a 
mode of existence and operation. It is de- 
nominated in the Scriptures death, and the 
term is happily chosen, as it impressively 
exhibits its pervading influence upon all the 
powers and faculties of the man. The ques- 
tion of total depravity could never have been 
raised, if the Scripture notion of depravity 
had been steadily apprehended. It must 
either be total or not at all. The man who is 
dead is dead all over. As the ground-form 
of holiness is love to God, or rather the spirit 



OF THE BIBLE. 



45 



of love to God, so the ground-form of sin is 
the spirit of opposition ; the carnal mind is 
enmity against God. 

In this analysis of holiness and sin, I main- 
tain that the Scriptures have rendered a real 
contribution to the philosophy of our nature. 
The fact, that there was an essential unity in 
each, had been previously felt and distinctly 
asserted by the Peripatetics and the Stoics, 
but in what that unity consisted, their igno- 
rance of God and of all true communion with 
Him precluded, them from the possibility of 
answering. The unrenewed man is destitute 
of those elements of consciousness, out of 
which alone an answer could be reflectively 
extracted. It was reserved for Christianity, 
in revealing the true God, to reveal, at the 
same time, the moral excellence of man. The 
Scriptural account of holiness resolves a diffi- 
culty which, I apprehend, every young man 
has felt, in explaining the effects which the 
history of the fall attributes to a single sin 
upon a nature originally upright. If we 
were left to conjecture and speculation, we 



46 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



might suppose that, as a habit is not likely to 
be formed from a single act, the principle of 
rectitude would still remain, though weakened 
in its power, and by vigourous and systematic 
efforts might recover from the shock which, 
to some extent, had disordered the moral con- 
stitution. Bishop Butler* speaks with hesita- 
tion in relation to the degree of injury which 
might be expected to accrue from the first 
full overt act of irregularity, though he has 
no backwardness in regard to the natural re- 
sults of a confirmed habit. The difficulty is 
created by overlooking the reality of govern- 
ment and the peculiarity of holiness. In con- 
templating the effect of the first transgression 
on the part of an upright creature, we are 
not to confine our view to the tendency of 
the act to form a habit, as if the law of habit 
were the only law under which it does its 
mischief. We are to bear in mind, that as 
we are under government, as well as pos- 
sessed of a moral constitution, it has also 
judicial consequences, which must enter into 

* Analogy. Part i., chap. 5. 



OF THE BIBLE. 



47 



the estimate of the extent of injury sustained 
by the inner man. Now, as holiness, which 
is the foundation of the virtuous principle, 
the key-stone of the arch which maintains an 
upright nature in' its integrity, consists es- 
sentially in union with God, whatever alienates 
Him, must destroy it. This is precisely what 
every sin does ; it provokes His curse, breaks 
the harmony of the soul with Him, and re- 
moves that which is the fundamental prin- 
ciple of all true excellence. The sinner must 
die ; the moment that God frowns in anger, 
death invades the soul. It is the judicial 
consequence of sin. 

3. The third and last point to which I shall 
advert, as distinguishing the ethical teaching 
of the Bible, is the answer which it gives to 
the question : How shall man accomplish the 
end of his being ? How shall he acquire that 
perfection of nature, that holiness of state, 
without which he can never see God and live ? 
There is evidently a double work to be done 
— a change to be effected in his judicial re- 
lations, and in the temper and dispositions of 



48 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



the soul. As to the method of achieving the 
first, philosophy is completely dumb. The 
scheme of redemption^ by which pardon and 
acceptance are secured, is necessitated by no 
principles of natural light — it is the offspring 
of infinite wisdom, begotten by infinite grace. 
But philosophy may aspire to institute a dis- 
cipline by which the sinner shall restore his 
shattered constitution to integrity, and attain 
the perfection to which he was originally 
destined. There is a strong feeling in us all, 
that though damaged, we are not ruined by 
the fall ; that we still possess the elements of 
our ancient greatness, and that, by care and 
diligence on our part, we can repair the mis- 
chief that has been done. 

I am far, very far from detracting from the 
benefits of a moral education, or saying aught 
to depreciate the importance of the most 
scrupulous self-culture. We can accomplish 
much by energy of purpose, by fidelity to 
conscience, by sensibility to honour. We can 
employ the principles of our nature, fallen 
though it be, in the consummation of a char- 



OF THE BIBLE. 



49 



acter, which shall be distinguished by habits 
of nearly every specific virtue. The virgins, 
who went up and down in quest of them, 
might have gathered all the limbs of the 
mangled body of Osiris, and put them to- 
gether in their order, but it would not have 
been Osiris himself. We can form habits of 
nearly all that is materially right, and yet be 
wanting in the true principle of holiness. It 
is a great mistake to suppose that total de- 
pravity means devilish wickedness. Death is 
one thing, and the putrefaction of the body 
another. Now, the Scriptures teach us that 
the highest attainments of nature are only 
dead works. Left to itself, without check or 
hinderance to its spontaneous developements, 
it would produce nothing but wicked works ; 
but modified by education, by example, by 
society, and the thousand influences which 
co-operate in the formation of character, it 
may exhibit the loveliness of life on the fea- 
tures long after life has fled. Man can only 
act in obedience to his nature ; from the 
very definition of the term, it is the law of 

2 



50 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



his mode of existence or of life. He can 
never, therefore, escape from the pervading 
power of depravity. He may check one ten- 
dency by another, counteract one motive by 
another — -just as in the physical world, one 
law may be made to controul another, and 
effects may be produced by their combination 
which neither could singly produce. But we 
can never rise above these laws. All power, 
after all, is in obedience. So man can never 
rise above his nature — all education is within 
its sphere. Hence the utter and absolute im- 
possibility of transferring himself from a state 
of depravity to that of holiness. He must be 
bokn again. The new nature must be im- 
parted, and as it tends to God, it must come 
from God. Until the Divine Spirit shall 
renew us, we are incompetent to perform a 
single work that is acceptable to God. The 
victims which we bring to the altar are only 
lifeless carcasses. It is idleness to talk of a 
discipline in holiness to him to whom the 
primum mobile is wanting. Neither does the 
Bible leave us, after imparting the elemental 



OF THE BIBLE. 



51 



germ of holiness, to the principle of habit, or 
any other law of develop em ent and growth, 
to effect the perfection of our being. Having 
brought us into a state of fellowship with God, 
it maintains that fellowship by constant com- 
munications of His love — by unceasing assist- 
ances of grace. We are committed to the 
tuition of the Holy Ghost, and under His guid- 
ance and inspiration we rise from one form to 
another, until we are rendered meet for the 
inheritance of the saints in light. Hence the 
subjective states in which our holiness is 
manifested are not denominated habits but 
graces. They are not acquisitions but gifts ; 
and to remind us perpetually of the source 
of all the excellence that attaches to us, the 
very language we employ is a confession of 
our own impotency, and an acknowledgment 
of God's free favour. 

I have now completed what I had to say 
upon the ethical system of the Bible. The 
true light in which redemption should be 
habitually contemplated is that of a Divine in- 
stitute of holiness. Its immediate end is to 



52 



THE ETHICAL SYSTEM 



restore the union which sin has broken be- 
tween ourselves and God. It starts out with 
the great thought, that the happiness of an 
intelligent and moral creature is not some- 
thing foreign — not the possession of an out- 
ward and separate good — not shining courts 
nor splendid halls, nor any other princely equi- 
page of state — but the exercise of its own 
energies in God. To be happy it must be in 
sympathy with the author of its being. Upon 
this lofty eminence the whole scheme is 
erected, and all its arrangements are directed 
to the achievement of two results— the re- 
moval of those judicial consequences of sin 
which repel God from the sinner, and of those 
moral obstructions which repel the sinner 
from God. Jesus, as the daysman betwixt 
them, comes in and lays his hand upon them 
both. He bears our sins in his own body 
on the tree, and thus reconciles God to us ; 
he cleanses our hearts by the washing of re- 
generation, and thus reconciles us to God, 
and the first friendly interview of the parties 
takes place at the foot of the cross when we 



OF THE BIBLE. 



53 



believe in Jesus. This whole scheme involves 
the moral system, the system, if you please, 
of Divine philosophy upon which the govern- 
ment of God is conducted. It is the ethical 
system of the universe, and the Gospel is the 
only means, accordingly, by which we can 
attain true integrity. In rejecting it, we 
are not rejecting crowns and sceptres ; we 
are rejecting the very essence of virtue, and 
it is idle to pretend to a profound reverence 
for rectitude, when we disregard the only 
means by which we can be restored to it. 
In this moral aspect I am anxious to recom- 
mend it to you. All your present excellencies 
are dead works, and when the influences 
which now embalm and preserve the corpse 
are gone, it will putrefy and stink. The first 
step in real moral improvement, is faith in the 
Son of God. When that step is taken, we 
begin to live; until then, we are dead in 
trespasses and sins. 



" Whatsoever things are true, think on these things." 
Philippians, iv. 8. 

TT _ The injunction of the text, to 
DISC. II.] , . \ i 

trunk on whatsoever things are 

true, obviously implies that the love of 
truth, for its own sake, is a habit which we 
are bound to cultivate and cherish. If it is 
the circumstance of their being true, which 
entitles these things to our attention and re- 
gard, and makes it our duty to investigate 
and pursue them, there must be something in 
truth, essentially considered, which commends 
it to the moral approbation of the species. It 
is to be regretted that philosophers, in com- 
menting upon the obligation of veracity, have 
not paid sufficient attention to the habit or 
general disposition of the soul, which lies at 
the foundation of every form of the virtue— 



THE LOVE OF TEUTH. 



55 



of accuracy in narrative, sincerity in conduct, 
and fidelity to engagements. Commentators 
have even gone so far as to maintain that the 
apostle, in the words before us, had his eye 
only upon that species of truth, which relates 
to the social intercourse of men ; taking it for 
granted that this is the only kind of truth to 
which an ethical character pertains. One* 
represents him as describing "moral charac- 
ters and the duties of a Christian,' 1 and ac- 
cordingly restricts his meaning to "integrity 
and uprightness in opposition to hypocrisy, 
insincerity, or moral falsehood." The convic- 
tion seems to be common, that the operations 
of the understanding are not immediately 
under the cognizance of conscience, and that 
of the processes by which we form our specu- 
lative opinions, virtue and vice can neither 
be affirmed nor denied. These speculations 
are often directed to subjects in their own 
nature indifferent, and it is confidently in- 
ferred, that because the objects of our thoughts 
have nothing to do with the distinctions of 

* Dr. Watts. Sermon on this text. 



56 THE LOVE OF TRUTH, 



morality, our thoughts themselves are equally- 
exempt from a moral character. Hence has 
arisen the dogma that we are not responsi- 
ble for our opinions. The understanding is 
treated as a series of faculties, subject to its 
own laws, moving in a peculiar and restricted 
sphere, having no other connection with con- 
science than as it analyzes and applies the 
rules of morality to the cases of practice, 
which are constantly occurring in the busi- 
ness of the world. It may study, arrange and 
digest the moral code, but the laws which it 
acknowledges have no reference to its own 
processes, but only to the conduct of life. 

This, however, is not the doctrine of the 
Scriptures. They represent the domain of mo- 
rality as extending to the whole nature of 
man. Whatever directly or indirectly falls 
under the jurisdiction of the will possesses an 
ethical character, and may be the occasion to 
us of praise or blame, according to the prin- 
ciples and habits by which we have been 
governed. The morality does not attach to 
the processes or faculties themselves, but to 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 57 

the spirit and temper, the motives and pur- 
poses, which have shaped and determined 
their operations. There is a general sense in 
which all the elements of our spiritual nature 
are in subjection to the will. The springs of 
action, in our appetites, affections and desires, 
with which we are endowed, all act blindly ; 
they simply impel, but they do not direct. 
They cannot regulate their own motions ; 
they cannot prescribe the extent or circum- 
stances of their gratification, or determine the 
relative value of the objects which elicit them. 
They rouse the will ; and that must consult 
the conscience and the understanding as to 
the course to be pursued. Corresponding to 
all these springs of action there are moral 
laws, in obedience to which the will must con- 
trol them. These laws, ingrained into the 
nature, and invested with the supremacy 
which belongs to them, are so many habits 
of virtue, the complement of which makes up 
integrity of character. In the springs of ac- 
tion themselves there is nothing directly vir- 
tuous or vicious — they are simply indifferent. 
3* 



58 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



It is when they have put the man in the atti- 
tude of motion that responsibility begins, and 
according to the principles upon which he 
treats them he is entitled to praise or blame. 
These motive impulses are adjusted to the 
whole nature of man. Some spring from the 
body and operate at periodic intervals — such 
as hunger and thirst, the appetite of sex, and 
the desire of repose. There is nothing virtu- 
ous or vicious in any of the naked appetites ; 
but virtue and vice may attach to the meth- 
ods of their gratification. There may be ex- 
cess, as in gluttony and drunkenness, food 
may be unlawfully procured, or may consist 
of materials prejudicial to the health of the 
system. Other springs of action are directed 
to the mind — among which one of the most 
prominent is curiosity, or the desire of knowl- 
edge. In this, also, there is nothing directly 
moral ; but an ethical character ensues, the 
very moment the will pronounces upon the 
manner, the ends, and the extent of its grati- 
fication. When the question arises, how shall 
this desire of knowledge be gratified? there 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



59 



are moral laws in conformity with which the 
will is compelled to decide. Other springs 
of action are directed to the nurture and cul- 
tivation of the finer affections of the heart; 
and like those already enumerated, are indif- 
ferent in themselves, though the modes, and 
measure, and objects of their indulgence are 
equally subject to the jurisdiction of the con- 
science. As, then, there are principles of ac- 
tion designed to stimulate every department 
of our nature, and as the method, end and 
extent of their operation are to be deter- 
mined by the moral understanding, every de- 
partment of man's nature is brought under 
the cognizance of moral law, and he may be 
virtuous, or vicious on account of his opin- 
ions and sentiments as well as on account of 
his conduct. The law in conformity with 
which we are bound to regulate the impulses 
of curiosity, is the love of truth. This law, 
written upon the heart, incorporated into the 
nature, strengthened into a habit, constitutes 
the measure of the morality of intellect. It 
is not merely an accomplishment, an excel- 



60 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



lence, a beauty ; it is an indispensable duty 
to aim at truth in all the excursions of the 
understanding. It is as much a moral obli- 
gation to seek for it in our opinions as to 
express it in our words, or to manifest it in 
our conduct. We are responsible for the 
opinions which we form, not merely as these 
opinions are connected with conduct, or are 
probably the offspring of corrupt affections, 
but on the ground that the love of truth, in 
the whole extent and variety of its import, is 
an imperative and indestructible duty. This 
is the uniform teaching of the Scriptures. 
This is implied in the exhortation to buy the 
truth and sell it not, to seek that wisdom 
which is only another name for it, as for hid- 
den treasures, and to prefer its merchandise 
to that of gold and silver. Jesus Christ com- 
mends Himself to our confidence and love on 
the ground of His being the truth — promised 
the Holy Spirit as the Spirit of truth, de- 
nounced the vengeance of God upon those 
who believed Him not when He had told 
them the truth, and makes it the glory of the 



THE LOYE OF TRUTH. 



61 



Father that He is the God of truth, and the 
shame and everlasting infamy of the Prince 
of darkness that he is the father of lies. The 
eulogies directly and indirectly bestowed in 
the Scriptures upon truth, knowledge, under- 
standing, wisdom, have special reference, we 
freely concede, to that department of truth 
which is the immediate subject of Divine rev- 
elation, but they would be evidently point- 
less and meaningless, if truth in general were 
not intrinsically a good, and a good of such a 
nature as to lay the understanding under a 
formal obligation to receive it. 

It is, indeed, as the ancients well expressed 
it, the food of the soul, pabulum animi. 
There is a natural congruity betwixt it and 
the structure of the mind. The one corre- 
sponds to the other as light to the eye and 
sounds to the ear. The existence of such a 
desire as curiosity is a clear intimation, that 
man was formed for intelligence as well as for 
action, and the adjustment of his faculties to 
the objects by which he is surrounded, is a 
command from God to exercise them accord- 



62 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



ing to the laws by which He has defined their 
operation, in the acquisition of knowledge. 
Aristotle* having divided the rational facul- 
ties of man into speculative and practical, 
proceeds to determine what is the best habit 
of each. The best habit of anything he de- 
nominates its virtue, and very justly observes 
that the virtue of each object is ascertained 
by its fitness for performing its peculiar func- 
tions. These faculties evidently point to 
truth — the one speculative, the other practical 
— as their appropriate function, and hence 
are a call of God, through the essential con- 
stitution of the mind, to seek for wisdom. 
This doctrine seems to me to be expressly 
and directly taught in a passage of the Eude- 
mian E thicks, f which has been the occasion 
of not a little perplexity to the commentators. 
The Stagyrite there makes God the principle 
of motion in the human soul, and treats the 
fundamental deliverances of consciousness as 
inspirations of the Almighty, more certain 

* Mchom. Ethicks. 

t Lib. vii. c. 14, quoted in Hamilton's Recil, p. 773. 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



63 



than any deductions of science or reason, and 
as the conditions upon which all subsequent 
knowledge depends. God has made us cog- 
nitive beings. He has impressed upon us 
necessary and indestructible laws of belief, 
and if there be any force in the argument 
from final causes, we are obliged to regard 
the pursuit of knowledge as a part of the law 
of our being. It is the end of the mind to 
know, as it is of the eye to see, the ear to 
hear, or the heart to feel. Every man is as 
distinctly organized in reference to truth as 
in reference to any other purpose. 

It deserves farther to be remarked, that it 
is the prerogative of truth alone to invigorate 
the mind. The distinctions of sophistry and 
error may impart acuteness, quicken sagacity, 
and stimulate readiness, but what is gained in 
sharpness is lost in expansion and solidity. 
The minuteness of vision which falls to the 
lot of whole tribes of insects, is suited only to 
a narrow sphere, and to diminutive objects. 
The eye which can detect the latent animal 
cules, which teem in the air, the water, and 



64 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



the soil, is incompetent to embrace in its 
range the glories of heaven, or the beauties 
of earth. The dexterity and readiness which 
defences of falsehood are suited to produce, 
is not a free, generous, healthful activity, but 
a diseased condition of the system, analogous 
to that induced by fever, or poisonous and 
stimulating potions. But truth is a food 
which the soul digests, it strengthens and 
consolidates the mind, and is in every view 
worthy of the high encomiums which the an- 
cient sages were accustomed to lavish upon 
the pursuits of their favourite philosophy, as 
the wealth of reason ; the culture and medi- 
cine of the soul ; the choicest gift of heaven. 

There is another aspect in which the love 
of truth, as the pervading law of our specu- 
lative inquiries, may be satisfactorily exhib- 
ited. The moral and intellectual natures of 
man are so intimately connected, their mu- 
tual dependence so nicely adjusted, their 
action and reaction so perfect and complete, 
that confusion of understanding is always 
accompanied with corresponding lubricity of 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



65 



principle, and he whose perceptions of truth 
are not remarkable for clearness and preci- 
sion, will most surely be distinguished by an 
equal obscurity in his conceptions of rectitude. 
The moral duties which we are required to 
perform, may be contemplated as speculative 
principles, whose truth must be submitted to 
the decision of reason, as well as authoritative 
laws of the conscience, whose precepts we are 
bound to obey. There must be an exercise 
of the reflective understanding, in eliminating 
the primary dicta of our moral nature, and in 
determining the occasions and circumstances 
which call for the application of particular 
rules. The regulation of our conduct is not 
dependent upon instinct. Aristotle, among 
the ancients, was unquestionably in advance 
of every age which preceded the introduction 
of Christianity, and still in advance of many 
who call themselves Christians, in his clear 
and steady perception of the indissoluble con- 
nection betwixt the cogitative and practical 
departments of man's nature in reference to 
duty. He treats it as a distinction betwixt 



66 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



virtue and science, that the latter is restricted 
to one portion of the soul, while the former 
embraces all the elements of our being. 
" There are three principles," he affirms in 
the Nichomachean Ethicks, " which, either 
single or combined, are the sovereign judges 
of truth and conduct. These are, sensation, 
intellect and appetite. Of these three, mere 
sensation cannot alone be the foundation of 
any judgment respecting the conduct, that is, 
the propriety of action ; for wild beasts have 
perception by sense, but are totally unac- 
quainted with propriety. Affirming and de- 
nying are the operations of intellect ; desire 
and aversion are those of appetite ; and since 
moral virtue implies the habit of just election, 
and election or preference resolves itself into 
deliberation and appetite, every act of virtu- 
ous preference requires, that there should be 
accuracy and truth in the comparison, as well 
as correctness and propriety in the desire." 
In conformity with this reasoning, he subse- 
quently denominates the moral election or 
preference peculiar to man, " an impassioned 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



67 



intelligence or reflecting appetite." Who is 
not reminded of Bishop Butler's " sentiment of 
the understanding or perception of the heart?" 
The investigation of duty, involving so obvi- 
ously the exercise of judgment, those philos- 
ophers are not to be rashly condemned, who 
attribute to the same faculty of the mind, the 
power of distinguishing betwixt right and 
wrong, which, it is confessed, distinguishes 
betwixt truth and falsehood. They feel that 
the mental processes are so nearly identical, 
that they cannot but regard it as an unneces- 
sary multiplication of original powers, to have 
a peculiar understanding conversant only 
about moral truth, while another understand- 
ing is admitted to exist, which deals in truth 
of every other kind. Our faculties, which are 
only convenient names for the various opera- 
tions of a simple and indivisible substance, 
derive their appellation, not from the specific 
differences of the objects about which they 
are employed, but from their general nature. 
The discovery of truth, it is maintained, is as 
much an end to the moral inquirer who is 



66 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



virtue and science, that the latter is restricted 
to one portion of the soul, while the former 
embraces all the elements of our being. 
" There are three principles," he affirms in 
the Nichomachean Ethicks, " which, either 
single or combined, are the sovereign judges 
of truth and conduct. These are, sensation, 
intellect and appetite. Of these three, mere 
sensation cannot alone be the foundation of 
any judgment respecting the conduct, that is, 
the propriety of action ; for wild beasts have 
perception by sense, but are totally unac- 
quainted with propriety. Affirming and de- 
nying are the operations of intellect ; desire 
and aversion are those of appetite ; and since 
moral virtue implies the habit of just election, 
and election or preference resolves itself into 
deliberation and appetite, every act of virtu- 
ous preference requires, that there should be 
accuracy and truth in the comparison, as well 
as correctness and propriety in the desire." 
In conformity with this reasoning, he subse- 
quently denominates the moral election or 
preference peculiar to man, " an impassioned 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



67 



intelligence or reflecting appetite." Who is 
not reminded of Bishop Butler's "sentiment of 
the understanding or perception of the heart?" 
The investigation of duty, involving so obvi- 
ously the exercise of judgment, those philos- 
ophers are not to be rashly condemned, who 
attribute to the same faculty of the mind, the 
power of distinguishing betwixt right and 
wrong, which, it is confessed, distinguishes 
betwixt truth and falsehood. They feel that 
the mental processes are so nearly identical, 
that they cannot but regard it as an unneces- 
sary multiplication of original powers, to have 
a peculiar understanding conversant only 
about moral truth, while another understand- 
ing is admitted to exist, which deals in truth 
of every other kind. Our faculties, which are 
only convenient names for the various opera- 
tions of a simple and indivisible substance, 
derive their appellation, not from the specific 
differences of the objects about which they 
are employed, but from their general nature. 
The discovery of truth, it is maintained, is as 
much an end to the moral inquirer who is 



70 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



of cultivation, false associations, or ill-judged 
discipline, for their mistaken apprehensions 
of good and evil in the practical details of 
life, as to depravity of taste or perversion of 
moral sensibility. Their deeds of darkness 
are performed without compunctious visitings 
of conscience, not because that messenger of 
God slumbers in the breast, or is bribed by 
the sinner to hold its peace, or prevaricates 
in regard to the fundamental distinctions of 
right and wrong, but because that light is 
extinguished, that soundness of judgment is 
wanting, without which it is impossible to 
discriminate in the cases presented. The 
moral habits can no more expand nor take 
root downwards and bear fruit upwards, 
while the understanding, the true sun of the 
intellectual system, is veiled in darkness, than 
the plants and herbage of nature can nourish 
in beauty and luxuriance without the genial 
light of the day. The sense of obligation is 
always just in proportion to the enlargement 
of the mind with liberal views of the relations 
of mankind; and although the knowledge 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



71 



of the right does not necessarily secure its 
practice, it does secure what is always of 
vast importance to society, remorse to the 
guilty, and a homage of respect to the good. 
He that acknowledges a legitimate standard 
of moral obligation will find in his conscience 
a check to those crimes, which, through weak- 
ness, he is unable to suppress ; a restraint upon 
those passions which, through frailty, cannot 
be subdued. The transgressor, who violates 
rules of unquestioned authority, which his 
own understanding has deduced from the 
phenomena of conscience, will assuredly drive 
tranquillity from his bosom and repose from 
his couch. He sins indeed, but without that 
moral hardihood which attaches to those who, 
in their blindness and ignorance, put light for 
darkness, and bitter for sweet. They are the 
most dangerous offenders who tamper with 
the principles of rectitude itself, who seek to 
escape the reproaches of conscience by de- 
grading the standard of moral obligation ; 
who pursue peace at the expense of truth, 
and extinguish the light that they may not 



72 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



behold the calamity of their state. The aban 
doned condition of the Gentile world, which 
the Apostle graphically describes in the first 
chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, is ulti- 
mately traced to the vanity of their thoughts 
and the darkness of their minds ; and those to 
whom the Gospel is hid, have their minds 
blinded by the God of this world, lest the 
light of the glorious Gospel of Christ, who is 
the image of God, should shine into them and 
reveal the glory of the Lord, by the contem- 
plation of which, they might be transformed 
into the same image from glory to glory. 
There is hope of reformation as long as the 
principles remain uncorrupted ; but when the 
light which is in us is converted into darkness, 
when lies are greedily embraced and errors 
deliberately justified, the climax of guilt has 
been reached, the ruin of the character is 
complete, and the perdition of the soul, with- 
out a stupendous miracle of grace, seems to 
be inevitable. Shame and remorse, the usual 
channels through which amendment is pro- 
duced, are always the result of consciousness 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



73 



of wrong — an affection which is utterly in- 
consistent with that complete degradation of 
the mind into which thousands have been 
sunk, and in which error is neither lamented 
nor admitted. 

From the intimate alliance which subsists 
betwixt the understanding and the con- 
science, speculative falsehood must be fatal to 
the integrity of morals. He who trifles with 
the constitution of his nature in those primary 
convictions which lie at the foundation of all 
knowledge and philosophy — and error must 
be ultimately traced to some transgression of 
their laws — is cherishing a temper which shall 
soon rise in rebellion against the authority of 
conscience, and extinguish the only light that 
can convict him of crime. From the obscu- 
rity and confusion which have been permitted 
to shroud the understanding, may be antici- 
pated a deeper gloom which is soon to settle 
on the heart. That the moral conduct of 
men is not always answerable to the loose- 
ness of their speculative principles, is not to 
be ascribed to any redeeming virtue in the 

4 



74 



THE LOVE OF TKUTH. 



principles themselves, but to the restraints of 
society, and the voice of nature which licen- 
tiousness has not yet been able to suppress. 
The tendency exists, though accidental hinder- 
ances have retarded its developement. The 
denial of the reality of truth and evidence 
will be attended with a corresponding denial 
of rectitude and sin. These remarks, though 
they appear to me to be intuitively obvious, 
are felt to be necessary in order to rebuke 
the growing impression, that speculative prin- 
ciples have no immediate influence in regulat- 
ing conduct. We live in an age of sophists. 
A man may believe any thing or nothing ; and 
yet if his actions are consistent with the 
standard of public decency, his principles are 
not to be condemned, and he is not to be 
charged with wickedness on account of them. 
In the formation of his opinions, he is exempt 
from the moral law; conscience takes cog- 
nizance of nothing but the life. As if there 
could be any real virtue, where practice is not 
the result of principle ; as if the opinion were 
not the soul, life and being of all that is 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



75 



praiseworthy or excellent in the conduct. 
There can be no morality without intelli- 
gence ; and if there exists in the bosom of 
the Almighty an eternal standard of truth, 
from which the law of righteousness pro- 
ceeds, in conformity with which the arrange- 
ments of Providence are conducted, the rela- 
tions of things adjusted, and by which alone 
the harmony of the world can be effectually 
promoted, the first step towards communion 
with the Father of lights is to recognize that 
standard, and to have its rays reflected upon 
our own countenances. The mind cannot 
move in charity, nor rest in Providence, un- 
less it turn upon the poles of truth. " The 
inquiry of truth," says Bacon, "which is the 
love-making or wooing of it — the knowledge 
of truth, which is the presence of it — and the 
belief of truth, which is the enjoying of it — 
is the sovereign good of human nature. The 
first creature of God in the work of days was 
the light of sense ; the last was the light of 
reason, and His Sabbath-work ever since is 
the illumination of His Spirit." 



76 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



The last consideration which I shall adduce, 
in order to show the ethical character of the 
love of truth, as the pervading law of intel- 
lectual speculations, is the circumstance that 
it is the general habit of mind, of which hon- 
esty, frankness, sincerity and faithfulness are 
only specific manifestations. There is no 
method of argument by which the obligation 
of veracity, in the ordinary intercourse and 
business of life, can be established, which will 
not equally apply to the doctrine in question. 
Whatever evinces the wickedness and sin of 
voluntarily imposing upon others, will evince 
with equal certainty, the wickedness and sin 
of voluntarily imposing upon ourselves. We 
have no more right to deceive ourselves than 
we have to deceive our neighbours. That 
state of the understanding in which it is ex- 
empt from prejudice, and judges according to 
the light of evidence, is only a different man- 
ifestation of that general condition of the 
soul, in which it rejoices in rectitude, delights 
in sincerity, and scorns every approximation 
to concealment or hypocrisy. Few are sensi- 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



77 



ble of the close alliance which subsists be- 
tween partiality to error and duplicity and 
fraud in conduct. They are shoots from the 
same stock, fruits of the same tree. He that 
lies to his own understanding, or what 
amounts to the same thing, does not delib- 
erately propose to himself truth, as the end 
of all his investigations, will not scruple at 
deceit with his neighbours. He that prevari- 
cates in matters of opinion is not to be 
trusted in matters of interest. The love of 
truth is honesty of reason, as the love of vir 
tue is honesty of heart ; and so impossible is 
it to cultivate the moral affections at the ex 
pense of the understanding, that they who 
receive not the truth in the love of it, are 
threatened, in the Scriptures, with the most 
awful malediction that can befall a sinner in 
this sublunary state — an eclipse of the soul, 
and a blight upon the heart, which are the 
certain forerunners of the second death. The 
spirit of leasing is always one. What in 
regard to speculative opinions we denominate 
sophistry, is a species of the same general 



78 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



habit which, developed into action, gives 
birth to the character of the knave, distin- 
guished from the man of probity and wisdom, 
not more by the meanness of his views and 
the littleness of his ends than the number and 
minuteness of his contrivances to reconcile 
villany with fair appearances. The sophist 
of speculation is the hypocrite of practice. 
The same temper which prompts us to pre- 
varicate on one subject, will prompt us to 
prevaricate on all. As the soul is one and in- 
divisible, and understanding, affections, mem- 
ory and will, are only terms expressive of 
conditions in which the same substance is 
successively found, or forms of action which 
the same substance successively puts forth, 
whatever indicates disease in one mode of 
operation, must, from the simplicity of its 
nature, affect it in all. As in music, it is the 
same key which pervades the tune, whatever 
may be the variety of notes of which it is 
composed, so there is a general tone of mind 
which distinguishes all its activities, and gives 
harmony, consistency and unity to its vari- 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



79 



ous processes in every department of thought 
and feeling. There is a characteristic com- 
plexion, a pervading temper, which may be 
found alike in the tenor of its opinions, the 
trains of its reasoning, and the sentiments of 
the heart. If that temper be the love of 
truth, the whole man will be distinguished by 
candour, sincerity, openness and generosity ; 
if the spirit of leasing, the whole man will be 
distinguished by duplicity, treachery, equivo- 
cation and concealment. The love of truth 
is, accordingly, the great moral law, in con- 
formity with which curiosity must be regu- 
lated — it is the morality of the intellectual 
man, being to the understanding what sin- 
cerity is to the heart. 

The only plausible objections which can be 
sustained against the conclusiveness of these 
views, which bring the understanding under 
the controul of conscience, and subject the 
motives to intellectual effort to the jurisdic- 
tion of morality, is that which assumes, that 
the operations of the mind, in the department 
of speculative truth, are exempt from the 



80 THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 

authority of the will. Reid was unquestion- 
ably right in the announcement, which, so far 
as I know, he was the first distinctly and 
broadly to make, that virtue and vice are 
impossible where there is no exercise of the 
will. It has accordingly been contended by 
philosophers, of no less note than Sir James 
Mcintosh, Lord Brougham, and the author of 
Essays on the Formation of Opinions, that 
as the assent of the understanding is always 
involuntary, being the necessary result of 
the evidence submitted to its view, no moral 
character can attach to our opinions. We 
cannot, on account of them, be either the 
subjects of praise or blame, of reward or 
punishment. To one, they tell us, who has 
mastered the successive links in a chain of 
mathematical reasoning, the conclusion can 
no more be resisted than light can be ex- 
cluded from the open eye. The design of 
these illustrious men in maintaining the inno- 
cence of opinion, is worthy of all praise ; but 
they have certainly confounded questions that 
are entirely distinct. Their purpose was to 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 81 

lay a broad basis for civil toleration and for 
mutual charity. They wished to transfer 
opinions from the jurisdiction of the magis 
trate, and to rebuke the clamours of bigotry, 
intolerance, and sectarian zeal. But for this 
purpose, it was not necessary to prove that 
man is not responsible for his opinions at all, 
but only that he is not responsible to his fel- 
lows. Persecution is not the offspring of the 
doctrine that responsibility attaches to opin- 
ion, but that this responsibility is directed to 
the magistrate. The Scriptures consequently 
put responsibility upon its proper ground, 
when they show that though we are respon- 
sible, we are responsible only to God. We 
are not the masters of each other's faith. We 
are not at liberty to judge or despise our 
brother in consequence of his differences from 
us, but still each man must give account of 
himself to God. He may sin in his opinions, 
but we are not the persons to punish him for 
his guilt. To his own Master, he stands or 
falls. These remarks are made in order to 

guard against the impression, that in com- 

4* 



82 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



bating the argument for toleration, we are 
opposed to the principle of toleration itself. 
On the contrary, it seems to us, that the 
philosophers in question have left it in a 
much more precarious condition than they 
found it. But to pass this over, the same 
method of argument to which they have re- 
sorted in this case, might be employed with 
equal pertinency and force, to prove that there 
is no responsibility for the emotions, affec- 
tions, or permanent conditions of the heart. 
Love and hate are as much beyond the imme- 
diate province of the will as doubt or belief. 
These passions depend upon the presence or 
conception of qualities, which just as neces- 
sarily excite them, as evidence produces con- 
viction. Even the determinations of the will 
itself are not exempt from the influence of 
the great law of causation ; and if the argu- 
ment is pushed to the extent of its legitimate 
application, conduct will be as lawless as opin- 
ion. The connection betwixt motives and 
action is not less intimate and necessary than 
that between evidence and faith. It is pre- 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



83 



cisely because there is this connection, that 
responsibility, in either case, becomes conceiv- 
able or possible. If evidence had no inherent 
and essential tendency to generate belief, if 
conviction were the arbitrary offspring of 
circumstances, why should we be bound to 
examine evidence at all ? and if motives had 
no inherent and essential tendency to termi- 
nate in conduct, why should we be bound to 
cultivate right affections ? Let those who 
hope to escape from responsibility, by resorting 
to metaphysical distinctions, beware that they 
are not entangled in their own net, and that 
in the issue they do not establish what they 
are trying to overthrow. 

The fallacy, however, of this popular argu- 
ment is easily detected. It consists in re- 
stricting the application of the will to the 
final determination to act — in making will 
synonymous with volition. But when mo: 
rality is confined to the province of the will, 
that faculty is made to embrace all the wishes 
and desires, all the appetites and habits which 
constitute the springs of human action. Mo- 



84: 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



rality prescribes to them their laws ; and 
whenever these active principles are indulged 
in contravention of these laws, there guilt 
necessarily ensues — whenever in obedience to 
these precepts, there virtue and rectitude ob- 
tain. The sole question, therefore, is, whether 
vicious propensities and desires have any in- 
fluence upon the operations of the mind — 
whether good or bad emotions can exert any 
sway in directing its efforts and giving shape 
to its results. The answer here is too obvious 
to be denied. The illustrations derived from 
mathematical demonstration are singularly 
unfortunate. The reasonings of necessary 
science are subject to none of those disturb- 
ing influences which, as we shall subsequently 
see, the mind experiences from its tastes, its 
temper and its prejudices, in practical inqui- 
ries. There is, in this case, no coloured glass, 
to tinge the light, as it passes to the eye. 
Besides, the contradictory of a necessary truth 
is not only false but absurd, and to entertain 
it, or even to represent it in thought, is a sim- 
ple impossibility. The will has no jurisclic- 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



85 



tion, because the subjects embraced are whol- 
ly beyond its province. This is implied in 
the very epithet by which this species of 
truth is signalized. It is very different with 
moral speculations. There, as every question 
has two sides, and the opposite of truth is al- 
ways cogitable, the assent is not the sole pro- 
duct of the evidence, but of the evidence con- 
jointly with the temper and disposition of the 
man. Two factors conspire in the production 
of the result. The mind not only receives 
the light, but changes and transforms it into 
its own image. The will, in its wide sense, 
enters as a powerful element, and puts its own 
interpretation upon the appearances submit- 
ted to the intellect. It does for the evidence 
what, according to the philosophy of Kant, 
the understanding does for the material of 
sensibility — it supplies the form. Hence, in 
moral and religious subjects, universal expe- 
rience has demonstrated, that a man u under- 
stands as much by his affections as his rea- 
son." His beliefs are voluntary, in the sense, 
that they are largely determined by the active 



86 



THE LOVE OF TEUTH. 



principles of his nature. Then, again, there is 
an indirect and mediate power of the will by 
which, although we cannot immediately pro- 
duce any given conviction or emotion, we can 
place ourselves in the circumstances in which 
the causes shall operate that are fitted to 
achieve the desired result. 

Upon these two grounds we maintain that 
there may be a virtuous or a vicious exercise 
of the understanding; and that man is re- 
sponsible for his opinions as he is responsible 
for the motives which impel him to intel- 
lectual effort, and for the diligence, caution 
and attention by which he avails himself of 
all the means of arriving at truth. 

I have designedly taken this wide circuit, as 
preparatory to the illustrations which are yet 
to be presented, " of the nature of that veracity 
which is incumbent on us in our intercourse 
with our fellow-creatures. The most solid 
foundation for the uniform and the scrupulous 
exercise of this virtue is to cherish the love 
of truth in general, and to impress the mind 
with a conviction of its important ejfects on 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



87 



our own happiness, and on that of society." 
If asked why the love of truth is a duty, I 
can only appeal to the dictates of conscience 
and the authority of God. It is worthy of 
remark, however, that no theory of morals 
has ever yet been ventilated, at all entitled 
to the respect of mankind, in which this vir- 
tue has not received a prominent position. 
Among the ancients all virtue was a species 
of truth; and in the school of the Stagyrite 
prudence was an intellectual habit conversant 
about all practical, as wisdom was a habit 
conversant about all speculative truth. In 
the school of the Stoics, the importance 
which is attached to it may be seen from the 
Offices of Tully. " Of all the properties and 
inclinations of men, there is none," he in- 
forms us, u more natural and peculiar to them 
than an earnest desire and search after truth ;" 
and to this instinctive love of truth in general 
he traces our approbation of frankness, can- 
dour and sincerity in conduct. Among the 
Stoics, as among the Peripatetics, prudence as 
a cardinal virtue, consisted in the contempla- 



88 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



tion and study of practical truth. The the- 
ory of Wollaston, to come down to modern 
times, confessedly resolves all virtue into 
truth ; and the schemes of Clarke, Cudworth 
and Price presuppose the speculative conclu- 
sions of the intellect as the final basis of moral 
distinctions. 

If we place virtue in sentiment, there is 
nothing, according to the confession of all 
mankind, more beautiful and lovely than 
truth, more ugly and hateful than a lie. If 
we place it in calculations of expediency, no- 
thing is more conspicuously useful than truth 
on the one hand, and the confidence it in- 
spires; nothing more disastrous than false- 
hood, treachery and distrust. If there be 
then a moral principle to which, in every form, 
humanity has given utterance, it is the obliga- 
tion of veracity. Truth is alike the perfec- 
tion of the intellect and the glory of the 
heart. The Gospel, it has been beautifully 
said, "divides universal virtue into two cardi- 
nal, collateral and co-existent branches — truth 
and charity, the foundation and consumma- 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



89 



tion of all things, corresponding to the two 
constituent parts of human nature, the intel- 
lect and the will, those singular and super- 
eminent distinctions by which man becomes 
the subject of a religion which makes him 
wise unto salvation." 

The practical conclusion which I am anx- 
ious to impress upon you, from this part of 
the subject, is the obligation of making truth 
for its own sake the great end of your intel- 
lectual efforts. It is a principle which re- 
quires to be strengthened by exercise and 
matured into a habit. The discipline of the 
mind is imperfect, however fully its various 
capacities have been developed, until the love 
of truth gains the ascendency which is due 
to it, as the supreme and sovereign law of 
thought. Various motives may prompt us to 
be diligent and patient in the acquisition of 
knowledge. Some seek it, as Butler has caus- 
tically suggested, merely for the sake of talk- 
ing, or to qualify themselves for the world, 
some for their own entertainment, some for 
one purpose, others for another — but multi- 



90 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



tudes have no sort of curiosity to see what 
is true. There are subordinate ends which 
are lawful, but they must always be kept in 
subserviency to the love of truth for itself. 
What an influence it would exert upon you, 
upon me, upon all who are engaged in in- 
tellectual pursuits, if they were pervaded in 
the whole soul with this pure and sacred love 
of knowledge ! What student could indulge 
in indolence, or turn to his lessons as a weary 
task, or immerse himself in habits which dim 
the understanding, if he felt in any just pro- 
portion to the real state of the case, the tran- 
scendent excellence of truth, or the loathsome 
deformity of error. Let us rise, my brethren, 
to the dignity of this high argument. You 
have minds that were made to know — you 
are constructed with a reference to truth, and 
you are called upon to purge and unscale your 
sight at the fountain itself of heavenly ra- 
diance. The streams of science are flowing 
at your feet, and the food which angels eat, is 
offered to your palate. Let it never be said 
that you have neglected these golden oppor- 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



91 



tunities, and turned from the temple of truth 
to worship at the shrine of ignorance, error, 
and shame. Resolve in the strength of God 
this day, that like Isis in search of the man- 
gled body of Osiris, you will go up and down, 
gathering limb by limb, the scattered frag 
ments of truth, as your circumstances shall 
enable you to find them. 

This love of truth which I have been en- 
deavouring to recommend, will be of the very 
last importance to you, to guard you against 
the deceits of the world. Man walketh in a 
vain show. Untutored by experience, the 
young, particularly, are slow to suspect, that 
the prospects of good, of pleasure, opulence, 
and power, which stretch in rich luxuriance 
before them, are an empty pageant. Unskill- 
ed in the treachery of the heart and the wiles 
of the tempter, they can hardly be persuaded 
that the gilded colours, in which imagination 
adorns the future, are only a splendid dra- 
pery under which are concealed disappoint- 
ment, sorrow, and vexation. They have yet 
to learn the emptiness of pleasure, the agonies 



92 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



of power, and the vanity of wealth. Impetu- 
ous in their passions, ardent in their temper, 
and ignorant of life, they are prone to fix 
their affections upon some of those beggarly 
elements which will crumble into ashes at the 
touch of experience. The prince of darkness, 
intent upon their ruin, plies his fatal arts 
of enchantment to lull them into a sleep of 
false security, to exclude religion from their 
thoughts, and to conduct them by deceitful 
promises of good, by lies congenial with his 
nature, to the shades of death. This, my 
young friends, is your position, and it is one 
of immense peril. The world, the flesh, and 
hell, all conspire by glozing falsehood, to se- 
duce you to perdition. A covering is spread 
upon the grave and the pit, and the ways of 
sin are adorned with all that can please the 
eye, fascinate the ear, or enchant the heart. 
Your security against these dangers is convic- 
tion of the truth. The Word of God which 
is pre-eminently the truth, and in which a 
truth-loving heart will lead you to rest, dis- 
sipates the spell, reveals the snare, and deliv- 



THE LOVE OF T H U T H . 



93 



ers from the plot. It paints life in its true 
colours, tears the mask from the face of guilt, 
disrobes the world of its gorgeous drapery, 
and points to Him who is emphatically the 
way, the truth, and the life. All the rays of 
moral truth ultimately centre in the cross of 
the Redeemer ; and we never reach the sum- 
mit of wisdom until we attain that life which 
is alike the knowledge of the Father and of 
His Son Jesus Christ. Every one, says the 
Saviour, that is of the truth, heareth my voice. 
None perish but those who love darkness 
rather than light. A deceived heart turns 
them aside. 



%\t foir« fff € rut If. 



" Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true — think on 
these things." — Philippians, iv. 8. 

-r^-r™ TTT -> I N niv last discourse, I endeav- 
DISC. IIL1 

oured to demonstrate that the 
love of truth, as such, was a duty, from the con- 
stitution of the human mind ; the aptitude of 
truth to enlarge and expand it ; the intimate 
connection betwixt the culture of our moral 
and intellectual powers, and the impossibility 
of vindicating the obligation of specific forms, 
without recognizing the obligation of truth in 
general. I was led to show that we are re- 
sponsible for our opinions, in so far as we are 
responsible for the motives and influences un- 
der which we form them ; that the operations 
of the understanding have a moral character, 
inasmuch as the impulse of curiosity, like all 
our other springs of action, is subject to the 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



95 



direction and controul of the moral faculty. 
The love of truth for itself was evinced to be 
the law, in conformity with which all our in- 
tellectual processes should be conducted. The 
end of every inquiry should be knowledge — 
the aim of every investigation simple and un- 
adulterated truth. To guard against the pos- 
sibility of misapprehension, it may be well to 
add that, in inculcating the love of truth as a 
moral obligation, it is by no means my pur- 
pose to imply, that all men are bound to know 
all truth. There is a great difference betwixt 
asserting that nothing should be sought which 
is not the truth ; and that every thing which 
is the truth, is the appropriate pursuit of every 
understanding. 

There are departments of inquiry from 
which the natural limitation of our faculties 
precludes us; there are subjects upon which 
we are incompetent to speculate, from the 
want of congruity betwixt them and the con- 
stitution of our own minds; and as long as 
our powers remain what they are, they must 
forever be to us an unknown world. All 



96 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



knowledge, as I have elsewhere demonstrated 
at some length, is relative in its nature, and 
phenomenal in its objects. Whoever, there- 
fore, would seek to penetrate into properties 
of things to which our faculties are not ad- 
justed, overlooks a fundamental condition of 
the possibility of knowledge ; and his conclu- 
sions are entitled to no more respect than 
the speculations of a blind man upon colours, 
or of a deaf man upon sounds. There are 
conditions in the objects, corresponding to 
conditions in the subjects, of knowledge, one 
thing is set over against another, and beyond 
the limits of this correspondence it is folly to 
push our inquiries. Omniscience is the pre- 
rogative of God alone. Men and angels, all 
creatures, however exalted, must be forever 
doomed to write over boundless regions of 
truth, " Hades, an unseen world." There is 
light there- — light in which God dwells and 
rejoices, but which created eyes are not fitted 
to receive. To inculcate the obligation of 
universal knowledge, is to tell men to forget 
that they are men, and to urge them upon at- 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 97 

tempting to be Gods. It would be to incul- 
cate the most daring presumption, to sanctify 
intolerable arrogance and blasphemy. The 
duty to seek knowledge can never transcend 
our capacities. We are not bound to know 
what our faculties are unable to grasp ; and 
the attempt to become wise beyond the laws 
of our nature, has always been rebuked, in the 
history of philosophy, with the most signal 
and disastrous failures. Neither is it the duty 
of all men to seek all the knowledge which is 
attainable by any. The circumstances of 
multitudes are such, that their inquiries are 
necessarily confined within narrow limits. 
Their time and attention are taken up with 
pressing cares, and the exigencies of life leave 
no leisure for abstracted speculation. The 
progress of knowledge, too, requires that those 
who are devoted to its interests should di- 
vide their labours. Some should be engaged 
in one department, some in another. Some 
should give themselves to the sciences, some 
to the arts, some to elegant letters, and others 
to the severer studies of logic, metaphysics, 

5 



98 



THE LOVE OF TEUTH. 



and morals. In this way the march of hu- 
manity is accelerated, the general condition 
of society is improved, though no single indi- 
vidual can ever hope to be abreast of the 
whole culture of the age. 

What particular department of speculative 
truth each man shall select for himself, and 
how far he shall prosecute his labours, are 
questions to be determined by the circum- 
stances in which he finds himself placed. All 
that I assert in any case is, that it is an indis- 
pensable duty, in whatever inquiries we en- 
gage, to aim only at the truth. We are not 
bound to endeavour after universal knowl- 
edge, but we are bound to guard against 
error, and to receive nothing that has not 
the stamp of truth. All truth is not obliga- 
tory, but nothing but truth is obligatory on 
the understanding. No man, under any cir- 
cumstances, has a right to think a lie. He can 
no more, without guilt, administer poison to his 
understanding than he can administer it to his 
body. 

The degree of knowledge which is essential 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



99 



to the discharge of the duties of any sphere 
in which a man is called to act, and to the ac- 
complishment of his destiny as a moral and 
responsible being, is always binding. What 
the exigencies of our peculiar and distinctive 
vocations as artizans, labourers, or members 
of the learned professions demand, and what 
our general calling as men, made in the image 
of God, and destined to happiness or misery 
in a future state, according to our character 
and conduct here, requires, it is incumbent 
upon all to seek, and it is possible for all to 
attain. That knowledge which pertains to 
the conduct of life, is accessible to all upon 
whom the duties of life are imposed. It is 
the only knowledge which is of universal ob- 
ligation ; and in reference to it, there is no 
need to inquire who shall ascend into heaven, 
or who shall descend into the deep, the word 
is nigh us, even in our hearts and our mouths. 
The great doctrines of man's duty and destiny 
are not left to doubtful disputations. They 
are proclaimed upon an evidence which is 
open, palpable, authoritative ; they stand upon 



100 



THE LOVE OF TKUTH. 



the testimony of God. Wherever the Scrip- 
tures are known, it is the imperative duty of 
all to know Him, the only true God, and Jesus 
Christ whom He has sent. No cares, no busi- 
ness should be allowed to preclude us from 
the fountain of life ; things temporal must 
yield to things eternal — things carnal must 
give way to the spiritual — the seen and per- 
ishing to the unseen and immortal. The Bible 
must have the precedence of every other 
book ; and though a man could speak with 
the tongues of angels, and understand all 
mysteries, and subdue all nations in obedience 
to his will, yet if he were destitute of that 
knowledge which makes him wise unto salva- 
tion, with all his boasted attainments he would 
be but a chattering fool, but as a sounding 
brass or a tinkling cymbal. This knowledge, 
then, in its essential elements as bearing upon 
our destiny as men, is of universal obligation. 
This pearl of great price we must purchase, 
though we sacrifice all our other possessions 
to gain it. With these explanations and lim- 
itations, I proceed to point out in what the 



THE LOYE OF TRUTH. 



101 



love of truth essentially consists, and to indi- 
cate some of the temptations to which the 
young particularly are exposed to disre- 
gard it. 

I need not say a word in reference to the 
importance of these points. With all our com- 
mendations of the beauty, the glory, the ex- 
cellency of truth, it must yet be acknowledged, 
that the temper of mind which is most favour- 
able to the successful pursuit of it, is exceed- 
ingly rare, even among those whose professed 
business is to seek and explain it. Composed 
as men are of conflicting elements, as evi- 
dently disordered in their understandings as 
they are in their affections, liable to the per- 
versions of passion and interest, apt to con- 
found the zeal of prejudice with earnestness 
of principle, the affectation of vanity with 
brilliancy of genius ; eager for applause, and 
not always scrupulous about the means of 
securing it, the last spectacle which they 
exhibit is the true spirit of philosophy; the 
motive which least vigourously impels them 
is the ingenuous love of knowledge. I can- 



102 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



not better introduce what I have to suggest 
upon the nature of the love of truth, which I 
have been endeavouring to commend, than in 
the words of Locke, a competent authority 
upon this subject, having been himself a dis- 
tinguished example of the spirit he incul- 
cates : 

" First," says he,* u a man must not be in 
love with any opinion, or wish it to be true, 
till he knows it to be so, and then he will not 
need to wish it ; for nothing that is false can 
deserve our good wishes, nor a desire that it 
should have the place and force of truth. 
Secondly, he must do that which he will find 
himself very averse to, as judging the thing 
unnecessary, or himself incapable of doing it. 
He must try whether his principles be cer- 
tainly true or not, and how far he may safely 
rely upon them. In these two things, viz., 
an equal indifferency for all truth : I mean 
the receiving it, in the love of it, as truth, 
but not loving it for any other reason, before 
we know it to be true ; and in the examina- 

* Conduct of the Understanding. 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



103 



tion of our principles, and not receiving any 
for such, nor building on them, till we are 
fully convinced, as rational creatures, of their 
solidity, truth and certainty, consists the free- 
dom of the understanding, which is necessary 
to a rational creature, and without which it is 
not truly an understanding." We are not to 
confound the indifference of which Locke 
here speaks as to what is true, previous to 
the discovery, with indifference to the truth 
itself; neither are we to suppose that he com- 
mends a spirit which is at all indifferent to 
the search after truth. On the other hand, 
he would have us eager in the pursuit, im- 
partial in our inquiries, and established in our 
conclusions ; zealous for truth, when truth is 
found, and ardent in quest of it, while it yet 
lies undiscovered before us ; guarding equally 
against the partiality which would pervert 
and the lethargy which would arrest the ef- 
forts of the understanding. He is a slave to 
ignorance, who is too idle to examine ; he is 
a slave to prejudice who believes without, or 
independently of, evidence. An exemption 



104 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



from indolence or apathy, on the one hand, 
and all irregular biasses on the other, an ex- 
emption founded upon the very anxiety to 
escape from the stagnation of ignorance and 
the impostures of error, is the freedom of the 
understanding which Locke pronounces to be 
essential to a rational nature — without which, 
it may be " conceit, fancy, extravagance, any 
thing," but not " an understanding." It is 
this freedom which constitutes the love of 
truth, or rather this freedom is the only means 
by which the love of truth can be exemplified 
and curiosity directed to its appropriate ob- 
jects. 

The whole duty of man, in regard to the 
conduct of his understanding, may be referred 
to the single comprehensive principle, that 
evidence is the measure of assent. This is 
the light which alone can make it manifest, 
and by this light, and this light alone, are we 
commanded to walk. The understanding, as 
the instrument of truth, has for its guide the 
laws of belief ; and it is in virtue of these 
laws, that it is so admirably adapted to the 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 105 

exercise of intelligence. Truth to us is, and 
can be only relative. Things in their own 
natures, in their essences and quiddities, we 
are incapable of apprehending. That alone 
is truth to us which the constitution of 
our nature either immediately, or mediately, 
prompts us to believe. Its fundamental con- 
dition is confidence in our faculties ; and the 
convictions which are produced in conformity 
to the laws of our rational nature, the appear- 
ances of things to the human understanding, 
when healthfully exercised, these constitute 
the ultimate measures of truth and falsehood. 
That is to us which appears to be, and is only 
in so far as it appears. Beyond these appear- 
ances our faculties can never penetrate. In- 
telligence, or the apprehension of truth, in- 
volves judgment, belief, conviction of cer- 
tainty, not merely that the thing is there, but, 
to use a sensible analogy, seen to be there. 
There must be a constitution of mind adapted 
to that specific activity by which it believes 
and judges ; as it is only by virtue of such a 

constitution that the conception of knowledge 
5* 



106 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



becomes possible. This preparation of the 
mind to know, or its adaptation to intelli- 
gence, consists in subjecting it to laws of be- 
lief under which it must conduct its own op- 
erations. Its energies can be exercised only 
under the condition that it shall know, or be- 
lieve. As it is the necessity of belief which 
distinguishes intelligent action from every 
other species of operation, there must exist in 
the mind, as a part of its very structure, nat- 
ural tendencies to certain manners of belief, 
to be developed as soon as its activities are 
called forth. In their dormant state, as they 
exist antecedently to experience, they are 
only necessities of thinking; but developed 
by experience and generalized into abstract 
statements, they are original and elementary 
cognitions, the foundation and criteria of all 
knowledge. They are the standard of evi- 
dence, the constitutive and regulative princi- 
ples of intelligence, the light of the mind, 
and without them, the mind could no more 
be conceived to know than a blind man to 
see. Through them we know and believe 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



107 



every thing else, they are vouchers and guar- 
antees for all the truth which it falls to the 
lot of man to apprehend. To regulate belief 
by evidence is, accordingly, to receive no- 
thing which is not either an original convic- 
tion, or capable of being resolved into one. 
As we know by and through the mind, we 
can only know according to the laws of mind. 
All error may consequently be traced to some 
transgression of the laws of belief. There 
can be no doubt, that if all the conditions 
which ought to be observed in the processes 
of the understanding, were faithfully regard- 
ed, there would be no danger of fallacy, or 
mistake. Error is the result of disobedience, 
or inattention to the intelligent constitution 
of our own nature ; and the punishment of in- 
tellectual guilt. To follow nature, as that na- 
ture came from the hands of God, is to be 
conducted to truth as well as to duty. 

If. the primary data of consciousness are 
the standard and measure of evidence, there 
are but two ways in which we are liable to 
be misled and deceived ; the first, is in assume 



108 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



ing as an original conviction, or the legiti- 
mate product of such convictions, what is 
only the dictate of authority, custom, educa- 
tion, or desire ; and the second is, in misap- 
plying the data of consciousness to the cases 
which are actually submitted to the decisions 
of the understanding. We mistake the real 
nature of the phenomena, and accordingly ap- 
ply to them laws which are not applicable. 
In other words, we are liable to err by having 
a wrong standard of judgment, or by using a 
right standard improperly. These are the 
heads to which it seems to me all prejudice, 
however originated, may be at last referred. 
They give rise to skepticism and falsehood. 
He who confounds the dictates of education, 
or authority, with the primary convictions of 
nature, not only exposes himself to the danger 
of serious and fatal mistakes, but prepares the 
way for the utter annihilation of the essential 
distinctions betwixt truth and falsehood. The 
origin and nature of skepticism have been ad- 
mirably described by Sir William Hamilton,* 

* Philosophical Discourses. Article on Brown. 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



109 



" Our knowledge," says he, u rests ultimately 
on certain facts of consciousness, which, as 
primitive, and consequently incomprehensi- 
ble, are given less in the form of cognitions, 
than of beliefs. But if consciousness, in its 
last analysis, in other words, if our primary 
experience be a faith, the reality of our 
knowledge turns on the veracity of our gen- 
erative beliefs. As ultimate, the quality of 
these beliefs cannot be inferred ; their truth, 
however, is, in the first instance, to be pre- 
sumed. As given and possessed, they must 
stand good until refuted; neganti incumbit 
probatio. Intelligence cannot gratuitously 
annihilate itself ; nature is not to be assumed 
to work in vain, nor the author of nature 
to create only to deceive. But though the 
truths of our instinctive faith must original- 
ly be admitted, their falsehood may subse- 
quently be established; this, however, only 
through themselves, only on the ground of 
their reciprocal contradiction. Is this con- 
tradiction proved? the edifice of our knowl- 
edge is undermined; for no lie is of the truth. 



110 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



Consciousness is to the philosopher what the 
Bible is to the theologian. Both are pro- 
fessed revelations of Divine truth ; both ex- 
clusively supply the constitutive elements of 
knowledge, and the regulative standard of its 
construction. Each may be disproved, but 
disproved only by itself. If one or other re- 
veal facts which, as mutually repugnant, can- 
not but be false, the authenticity of that rev- 
elation is invalidated ; and the criticism which 
signalizes this self-refutation has, in either case, 
been able to convert assurance into skepti- 
cism — to turn the truth of God into a lie. 
As psychology is only a developed conscious- 
ness, the positive philosopher has thus a pri~ 
mary presumption in favour of the elements, 
out of which his system is constructed ; while 
the skeptic or negative philosopher must be 
content to argue back to the falsehood of 
those elements, from the impossibility which 
the dogmatist may experience in combining 
them into the harmony of truth. For truth is 
one, and the end of philosophy is the intuition 
of unity. Skepticism is not an original or in- 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



Ill 



dependent method. It is the correlevant and 
consequent of dogmatism; and so far from 
being an enemy to truth, it arises only from a 
false philosophy, as its indication and its cure. 
The skeptic must not himself establish, but 
from the dogmatist, accept his principles ; and 
his conclusion is only a reduction of philoso- 
phy to zero, on the hypothesis of the doctrine 
from which his premises are borrowed. Are 
the principles which a peculiar system in- 
volves, convicted of contradiction, or are these 
principles proved repugnant to others which, 
as facts of consciousness, every positive phi- 
losophy must admit, then is established a rela- 
tive skepticism, or conclusion, that philosophy, 
so far as realized in this system, is groundless. 
Again, are the principles which, as facts of 
consciousness, philosophy, in general, must 
comprehend, found exclusive of each other, 
there is established an absolute skepticism; 
the impossibility of all philosophy is involved 
in the negation of the one criterion of truth. 
Our statement may be reduced to a dilemma. 
Either the facts of consciousness can be recon- 



112 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



ciled, or they cannot. If they cannot, knowl- 
edge absolutely is impossible, and every sys- 
tem of philosophy therefore false. If they 
can, no system which supposes their incon- 
sistency can pretend to truth." It is the office 
of the skeptic to bring the different powers 
of the soul into a state of unnatural collision, 
and to set our faculties at war, to involve their 
functions in suspicion — to make the deduc- 
tions of the understanding contradict original 
convictions of nature, or these original con- 
victions contradict themselves in the conclu- 
sions they legitimate, and thus to sap the 
foundations of knowledge, to annihilate all 
certainty, to reduce truth and falsehood to a 
common insignificance, and expose the mind 
to endless perplexity, confusion, and despair. 
The danger of receiving as maxims what are 
not entitled to the dignity, extends much be- 
yond the immediate errors in which they in- 
volve us. It is not that they generate a rash 
dogmatism, but that they afford the materials 
of undermining the whole temple of knowl- 
edge, which creates their mischief. The 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



113 



skeptic accepts them at the hands of the dog- 
matist, and uses them as instruments of death. 
Hence, the importance, in the language of 
Locke, of accustoming ourselves u in any ques- 
tion proposed, to examine and find out upon 
what it bottoms. Most of the difficulties that 
come in our way, when well considered and 
traced, lead us to some proposition which, 
known to be true, clears the doubt, and gives 
an easy solution of the question." The mis- 
chief which maxims rashly accepted as intui- 
tive judgments or well-drawn conclusions, 
have done to the cause of truth, both in phi- 
losophy and religion, is incalculable. A sin- 
gle crotchet of philosophers, that the relation 
of knowledge implies an analogy of the sub- 
ject and the object, involved for centuries the 
whole subject of perception, and the mode of 
our knowledge of the external world in con- 
fusion, hypothesis and contradiction. The 
ideal theory was the offspring of this simple 
proposition ; and it might even yet retain its 
ascendency in the schools, if the skepticism 
of Hume, at once the indication and cure of 



114 



THE LOVE OF TEUTH. 



the disorder, had not arisen and prepared the 
way for a sounder metaphysics. The Scribes 
and Pharisees took it to be a maxim, that no 
good thing could come out of Nazareth ; and 
upon the absurd dogma founded the belief 
that Jesus was an impostor. The " soft en- 
thusiast 1 ' receives it as an axiom, that the 
benevolence of God rejoices in the happiness 
of His creatures simply and for itself, and 
hence proceeds to the denial of government, 
and especially the operations of penal jus- 
tice. 

It deserves to be particularly remarked, 
that the mind very frequently assumes, with- 
out the formality of distinct enunciation, as 
self-evident truths, a class of propositions from 
which it would recoil, if stated in words. It 
silently and imperceptibly takes them for 
granted. They enter into its reasonings 
without its being distinctly conscious of their 
presence. Some men are tenacious of opin- 
ions, because they are the characteristics of a 
party or a sect; because they are recom- 
mended by high authority, and have been 



THE LOVE OF TKUTH. 



115 



sanctioned by a long, uninquiring acqui- 
escence. u When any of these maxims are 
brought to the test," no man who pretends to 
reason will hesitate to condemn them as falli- 
ble and uncertain; and "such," as Mr. Locke 
expresses it, u as he will not allow in those 
that differ from him, yet after he is convinced 
of this, you shall see him go on in the use of 
them, and the very next occasion that oners 
argue again upon the same grounds." 

The criteria by which the fundamental data 
of consciousness are recognized, are suffi- 
ciently plain for all the purposes of life. The 
difficulty consists not in their obscurity or 
confusion, but in our own reluctance to exam- 
ine the grounds of our belief, and to bring 
every proposition to the law and to the testi- 
mony. We love opinions instead of truth. 
We are pleased with dogmas upon other and 
independent grounds, and are insensibly led, 
by our passions and desires, to transform our- 
selves from candid and impartial inquirers 
into earnest and interested advocates. Edu- 
cation makes authority tantamount to nature, 



116 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



and we quietly treat as intuitively obvious, 
what we caught from the nursery and cradle, 
without having ever seriously asked ourselves, 
whether these principles are indeed distin- 
guished by the marks and characters of orig- 
inal convictions. Hence, error is perpetuated 
from age to age. One generation transmits a 
legacy of lies to another ; and the dreams of 
tranquillity are not disturbed until some 
threatening form of skepticism arises, that 
compels examination and enforces inquiry. 
The first duty, therefore, which the love of 
truth exacts at our hands, is to look well to 
our principles, to prove all things, and to hold 
fast that which is good. Bring every thing 
to the standard of evidence which our nature 
supplies. This is the only light which we are 
at liberty to follow. A blind and implicit 
reception of any principles, however sacred, 
without satisfactory evidence, is alike con- 
demned by the Scriptures and the voice of 
reason. This mechanical faith is not an exer- 
cise of the understanding ; it is a passive ac- 
quiescence in the circumstances which sur- 



THE LOVE OF TKUTH. 



117 



round us. Such a man does not think, he is 
thought for; he is simply crammed with the 
cogitations of other minds, as a cook crams a 
bird with food. Let a man be rigidly indif- 
ferent as to what shall prove to be truth, keep 
all passion, interest or disturbing influences at 
a distance, and patient examination will most 
certainly conduct him to the light of real evi- 
dence. 

The other form in which prejudice operates, 
is by distorting the appearances of things, so 
as to make us upon true principles pronounce 
wrong judgments. Our faculties are not put 
in complete possession of the case. This is 
especially true of moral and religious subjects. 
In all such subjects, the evidence is tinged by 
the complexion of the mind ; and although 
the judgment may be right according to the 
evidence as presented, it is not right accord- 
ing to the evidence as it exists in itself. It is 
a jaundiced eye misjudging of colours. That 
there is a connection betwixt the state of the 
soul and the perception of moral and divine 
truth, was a principle admitted even by the 



118 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



heathen philosophers. Aristotle expressly 
announces it, and the celebrated fable of the 
wolf learning to read was especially designed 
to illustrate it. Depravity of heart and the 
indulgence of corrupt and wicked passions 
not only give rise to false measures of truth, 
but false applications of the true measures of 
good and evil. In this double operation con- 
sists what the Scriptures denominate the de- 
ceitfulness of sin. Things are represented in 
disguise — bitter put for sweet, sweet for bit- 
ter; and through the fatal force and impos- 
ture of words, the fraud is concealed and 
propagated. Thus, parsimony may have the 
credit of frugality, and a spirit of revenge be 
dignified as sensibility to honour, and extrav- 
agance or prodigality receive the praise 
which is due to liberality. The passions 
make out a false case, and hence a false judg- 
ment is necessarily rendered. The ablest ad- 
vocate of the passions on such occasions is the 
power of association. Let unpleasant ideas 
be connected with a name, and they will be 
transferred to every thing to which the name 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



119 



is applied. A slaveholder at the North is the 
very embodiment of evil, and an abolitionist 
at the South an emissary of darkness. It is 
the trick of politicians to bandy epithets; 
words being the counters of wise men, but 
the coin of fools. You might not be able to 
injure a man's principles ; but call him some 
hateful name, and you effectually destroy him. 
There is no subject in regard to which the 
young should be more constantly on their 
guard, than the sophistry of the heart. In a 
right ordered mind, adaptation to its state is 
the highest evidence of good ; and when the 
heart is corrupt, the things which are suitable 
to it will still be prized as objects of desire, 
and invested with all those properties and 
attributes which belong to real excellence. 
It will still make analogy, or correspondence 
to its prevailing tastes and inclinations, the 
practical criterion of truth. As the relation 
of assent can never freely and cheerfully ob- 
tain, where the mind and proposition are not 
homogeneous — sympathy being, in this, as in 
all other cases, essential to union — it is clear 



120 THE LOVE OF TRUTH, 

that wickedness has a fearful power in seduc- 
ing the understanding into error. It has but 
to seize upon this principle of fitness, to make 
the feeling of proportion to its own tastes, of 
correspondence and congruity with its own 
dispositions or desires, the measure of good, 
in order to fill the mind with prejudices, and 
to erect a standard of practical truth, which 
must fatally pervert the judgment. Taylor 
has well observed that " a man's mind must 
be like your proposition before it can be en- 
tertained ; for whatever you put into a man, 
it will smell of the vessel. It is a man's mind 
that gives the emphasis, and makes your ar- 
gument to prevail." Hence, as the same 
eloquent writer again remarks, "It is not the 
wit of man, but the spirit of a man, not so 
much his head as his heart, that learns the 
Divine philosophy." Moral is not more dis- 
tinguished from mathematical reasoning by 
the fact, that it admits of degrees, than by 
the equally important fact, that these de- 
grees may be indefinitely modified by our 
tempers, dispositions and habits. Even the 



THE LOVE OF TKUTII. 121 

transient humour, in which we may chance to 
be, has often a controlling influence. The 
same circumstance which in one state of mind 
would carry no weight with it, in another 
might amount to a very high degree of cer- 
tainty, just as in one state of mind a phenom- 
enon may be eminently suggestive, which in 
another would pass unheeded. Newton, no 
doubt, had often seen apples fall, but the 
event was insignificant until he happened to 
be in a particular vein of speculation. "Tri- 
fles," which to the generous and unsuspecting 
seem "light as air, are to the jealous confir- 
mation strong as proof of Holy Writ." While, 
therefore, it is true that a man's faith will 
always be according to his apprehension of 
the evidence, it is not true that in moral sub- 
jects the evidence will always be apprehended 
in its just proportions. It may be perverted, 
distorted, discoloured, or reduced to nothing ; 
the facts which contain it may fail to suggest 
it, or suggest it feebly and inadequately. To 
a man under the habitual dominion of cov- 
etousness, it is impossible to represent in its 

6 



122 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



true light an enterprise of charity ; to a glut- 
ton lost in sensuality, or a sot reduced to the 
condition of a brute, all discourses upon man's 
sublime gifts must be unmeaning. The vo- 
luptuary and debauchee cannot comprehend 
the dignity and excellence of self-denial. 
The proud will turn in disgust from lessons 
of humility, and the envious sneer at the ob- 
ligation of benevolence. It is an universal 
rule, that sin darkens the understanding, while 
it corrupts the heart. It is as inconsistent 
with the just appreciation of evidence as with 
the faithful discharge of duty. Hence, it was 
a custom in the ancient schools of philosophy 
to spend some time in trials and examinations 
of the genius and disposition of their scholars 
before they admitted them to the sublime in- 
structions of the sect. The Platonists partic- 
ularly laid down severe rules for " the purga- 
tion of the soul, for refining and purifying it 
from the contagion of the body and the infec- 
tion it might have contracted from the sensi- 
tive life, in order to fit and prepare it for the 
contemplation of intellectual and abstract 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



123 



truths." One greater than Plato or Aristotle, 
the master of a nobler philosophy than ever 
sprang from earth, has enjoined it as the con- 
dition of knowing divine truth, that we culti- 
vate the spirit of universal obedience. He 
that will do God's will, shall know of the 
doctrine. 

There is no principle which needs to be 
more strenuously inculcated, than that evi- 
dence alone should be the measure of assent. 
In reference to this principle, the whole disci- 
pline of the understanding must be conducted. 
Our anxiety should be to guard against all the 
influences which preclude the access of evi- 
dence, incapacitate us to appreciate its value, 
and give false measures of judgment, instead 
of the natural and legitimate laws of belief. 
All real evidence we are bound to receive, ac- 
cording to the weight which it would have, in 
a sound and healthful condition of the soul. 
It is a defect in the mind not to be able to 
appreciate its lowest degrees. That is a 
feeble and must be a fickle mind which, fool- 
ishly demanding certainty on all the questions 



124 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



submitted to its judgment, cannot proportion 
its faith to the amount of light it enjoys. 
Dissatisfied with probability, and ever in quest 
of what the circumstances of our case put 
hopelessly beyond our reach, such men, like 
Noah's dove, will seek in vain for a spot on 
which they can rest. Probability is the guide 
of life; and he who resolves to believe no- 
thing but what he can demonstrate, acts in 
open defiance of the condition of sublunary 
existence. There are many things here which 
we can only see through a glass darkly. Our 
duty is to walk by the light which we have. 
God commands us to yield to all evidence that 
is real in precise proportion to its strength. 
Evidence, and that alone, He has made it ob- 
ligatory on our understandings to pursue ; and 
whatever opinions we hold that are not the off- 
spring of evidence, that have come to us merely 
from education, authority, custom, or passion, 
however true and valuable they may be in 
themselves, are not held by us in the spirit of 
truth. These measures of assent are only pre- 
sumptions, which should stimulate inquiry, 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



125 



and breed modesty and cantion. They are 
helps to our faith, but should never be made 
the props of it. 

Hence, all efforts to restrict freedom of de- 
bate and the liberty of the press should be 
watched with caution, as prejudicial to the 
eliciting of evidence, and the defence and 
propagation of the truth. But little is gained 
if opinions are crammed into men, and this is 
likely to be the case where they are not per- 
mitted to inquire and to doubt. At the same 
time it must be remembered, that no spirit is 
more unfriendly to that indifference of mind, 
so essential to freedom of inquiry, than that 
which arises in the conduct of controversy. 
When we become advocates, we lay aside the 
garb of philosophers. The desire of victory 
is often stronger than the love of truth ; and 
pride, jealousy, ambition and envy, identify- 
ing ourselves with our opinions, will lend 
their aid to pervert our judgments, and to se- 
duce us from our candour. A disputatious 
spirit is always the mark of a little mind. 
The cynic may growl, but he can never aspire 



126 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



to dignity of character. There are undoubt- 
edly occasions when we must contend ear- 
nestly for the truth ; but when we buckle on 
the panoply of controversy, we should look 
well to our own hearts, that no motives ani- 
mate us but the love of truth and zeal for the 
highest interests of man. 

I am apt to suspect that the habit which is 
not unfrequently recommended, as a means 
of intellectual discipline, of arguing on the 
wrong side of a question, as a trial of in- 
genuity and skill, is inconsistent with in- 
genuity of mind. It is sporting with false- 
hood, trifling with evidence, and must event- 
ually produce a fondness for sophistry, which 
will ultimately destroy solidity of judgment. 
Beside this, to use arguments as conclusive 
which we do not believe to be possessed of 
that character, is very near to a deliberate 
lie. It is a practice closely allied to pious 
frauds. 

But the most serious dangers to which a 
young man is exposed, of surrendering the in- 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



127 



terests of truth, are those which arise from 
vanity or shame. 

The love of applause which, studious only 
of appearances, substitutes hypocrisy for vir- 
tue, rashness for courage, and pedantry for 
learning, will court reputation rather from 
the glitter of paradox than the steady light 
of truth. He whose end is to elicit admira- 
tion, who aims to seem, not to he a philoso- 
pher, will prefer plausibility to evidence, in- 
genuity to reasoning, and singularity to gen- 
eral consent. When the ambition of notorie- 
ty, which ought not to occupy the subordi- 
nate position of an incidental motive, usurps 
the place of an end of inquiry, its disturbing 
influences upon the integrity of the mind, are 
not less disastrous, than the effects of ostenta- 
tion in morals upon the sincerity of the heart. 
The laws of evidence cease to be regarded ; 
novelty, not truth, becomes the measure of 
assent ; astonishment, not conviction, the aim 
of argument ; and the stare of wonder is 
deemed a more pleasing tribute than substan- 
tial esteem. The excursions of this insane 



128 



THE LOVE OF TEUTH. 



principle are marked by opposition to the 
settled opinions of the race, fierce and malig- 
nant, in proportion to their worth, and by a 
prolific ingenuity in the invention of error. 
As the reputation of sagacity and superior 
discernment is the prize to be won, he prom- 
ises to be the most successful competitor, who 
triumphs over the general persuasion of man- 
kind, who detects flaws and elements of false- 
hood in the faith of generations, and rears a 
new fabric of wisdom and knowledge upon 
the ruins of ancient ignorance and supersti- 
tion. To such men, nothing is venerable, no- 
thing sacred. They penetrate the depths of 
the past to collect the mischievous opinions 
which time had consigned to oblivion, and to 
reproduce upon the stage, in the dress of nov- 
elty, the actors that once inspired consterna- 
tion and alarm. They explore the mysteries 
of science, not to admire the wisdom, or 
adore the goodness of God — not to enlarge 
the dominion of mankind, to relieve their 
wants, to increase their comforts, to stimulate 
their piety, and exalt their destiny, but to 



THE LOVE OF TKUTH. 129 

wring from the secrets of nature, by hateful 
processes of torture, some dubious confess- 
ions, that may signalize themselves as unex- 
pected ministers of ill. As religion is the 
most awful subject that can occupy the 
thoughts of men, it is here that the encroach- 
ments of vanity will be most daring and pre- 
sumptuous. Science is the possession of but 
few, and he who ventures upon novelties in 
any of its departments, can expect but a lim- 
ited glory. Religion, on the other hand, is 
the property of the race, and he who should 
succeed in confounding its principles, or extin- 
guishing its sanctions, would achieve a con- 
quest, which, if the extent of ruin is to be the 
measure of renown, might satisfy the largest 
ambition. It is a marvellous phenomenon 
that men should be willing to relieve obscuri- 
ty by infamy ; that rather than not be known, 
they will deliberately suppress the light of 
reason, quell the remonstrances of conscience, 
forfeit the approbation of the wise and good, 
defy the Omnipotent to arms, and run the 

risk of everlasting damnation. Yet such 

6* 



130 



THE LOVE OF TEUTH. 



there are, infatuated men, who seek for dis- 
tinction in unnatural efforts to degrade their 
species — who found a title to respect, upon 
discoveries which link them in destiny to the 
brutes, who glory in their shame. Nothing in 
the majesty of virtue rebukes them, nothing 
in the simplicity of truth allures them, no- 
thing in the terrors of the Almighty, alarms 
them. With ruthless violence and parricidal 
zeal, they attack whatever is venerable, sa- 
cred, august, and true. The sublimest doc- 
trines of religion, the dread retributions of 
eternity, and the name and perfections of 
Him who sits upon the circle of the earth, 
and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshop- 
pers, before whom the nations are counted as 
the small dust of the balance, are treated as 
materials to minister to vanity. At one time, 
under the pretext of exalting natural relig- 
ion, the mysteries of the cross are disregard- 
ed, and reason is professedly exalted only 
that grace may be really despised. At an- 
other time, the distinctions of truth and false- 
hood are involved in confusion, and universal 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 131 

skepticism made the touchstone of sound 
philosophy. And truth, and duty, and relig- 
ion, disappear in the darkness. The scene 
changes, and we behold open apologists for 
Atheism, who seek to gain a name in the 
earth by unblushingly proclaiming that they 
can detect no traces of wisdom in the fabric 
of the world, no tokens of goodness in the 
conduct of Providence ; whose deity is chance, 
whose devotion is sensuality, whose hope is 
extinction. But as these gross forms of im- 
piety and absurdity soon excited too much 
disgust to flatter the vanity of their authors, 
the infamous odour they emitted rebuking 
the inspection of curiosity, this miserable am- 
bition of distinction was compelled to resort 
to decency, and assuming the air of profound 
speculation, covered its enormities under the 
refinements of a philosophy, in which names, 
that are dear to the heart, the names of God, 
of virtue, and religion, are retained, but the 
things themselves are exploded. This sys- 
tern is exactly adapted to the ruling passion 
of the vain. Obscurity is its element, and as 



132 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



objects look larger in a mist, the reputation 
of profound sagacity and wisdom, may be 
cheaply purchased by substituting mystery 
for sense, and dreams for thought, by drink- 
ing inspiration from the clouds, and clothing 
oracular responses in a jargon as dark and 
unintelligible as the hieroglyphics of those 
great exemplars of imposture, the priesthood 
of Egypt. Guard, my young friends, against 
vanity. Never let it be a question whether 
this, or that opinion, shall attract attention to 
your persons. Look only for evidence — fol- 
low the light — and be content with the re- 
flection that you have deserved, whether you 
have gained or not, the approbation of your 
fellows. Wisdom will eventually be justified 
of all her children. The triumphs of vanity 
are short — those of truth everlasting. 

Closely connected with vanity is the ir- 
regular influence of the sense of shame, in 
prompting us to shrink from opinions which 
may expose us to ridicule. False shame, it is 
obvious, however, is not so fatal to the inter- 
ests of truth, as vanity; since, content with 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



133 



suppressing unpopular convictions, it makes 
no excursions into the fields of error. Unam- 
bitious of attracting observation, it meditates 
no monument of glory. It is not obscurity, 
but contempt, that excites its apprehensions. 
The sense of shame, as a subsidiary sanction 
of virtue and propriety, is an important, per- 
haps an indispensable element, in the econo- 
my of human nature. It is a protection from 
what is little in principle, and mean in con- 
duct. But to exalt the sense of the ridicu- 
lous into a criterion of truth, to make it the 
guide of reason in the pursuits of philosophy, 
is to destroy the just subordination of im- 
pulses and passions to the dictates of the un- 
derstanding. Our emotions depend, not upon 
the essential qualities of the objects that ex- 
cite them, but upon the representations that 
are made to the mind. The eye affects the 
heart — the aspects, or lights, in which things 
are contemplated, determine the character 
of the feelings they produce. If, then, virtue 
and truth are capable of being distorted by 
the fancy, and presented under false appear- 



134 



THE LOVE OF TEUTH. 



ances, they are capable of being made the oc- 
casions of emotions foreign to their nature. 
It may, indeed, be conceded that the sense 
of ridicule is an instinct of nature, and that 
its appropriate qualities are neither truth, vir- 
tue, nor goodness, distinctively as such ; but 
as instances of virtue can be misrepresented 
to the moral sense, and receive the censure 
which is due to vice, so truth can be covered 
in the disguise of falsehood, and provoke the 
laughter which is due to folly. The intrinsic 
dignity and importance of an object are no 
exemption from the shafts of raillery. The 
noblest painting may be seen in a false light. 
The history of infidelity is fraught with mel- 
ancholy proof, that no subjects are too sub- 
lime for levity, too sacred for caricature, or 
too solemn for a jest. Could religion always 
be presented in its true colours — and this is 
the truth which it is most important to guard 
— it would have nothing to fear from the 
power of ridicule. But when piety is de- 
nounced as superstition, humility reproached 
as meanness, faith derided as enthusiasm, firm- 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



135 



ness despised as obstinacy, and joy in the 
Holy Ghost insulted as the offspring of spirit- 
ual pride, religion may suffer from the con- 
tempt due only to the gross and disgusting 
pictures which sophists and buffoons have 
drawn of it. There are a thousand tricks by 
which wit and humour may pervert the mys- 
teries of the cross, and connect them with low 
and ridiculous associations, with which they 
have no natural affinity. Through the fatal 
imposture of words, by mean and vulgar an- 
alogies, the eccentricities of good men may 
be artfully exaggerated, their ignorance and 
frailties conspicuously set off, and true piety 
dexterously confounded with hypocrisy and 
fraud. In every age skeptics have relied 
more upon the power of sarcasm, than upon 
the power of argument. The enemies of 
Christianity, as Dr. Paley justly remarks, 
have pursued her with poisoned weapons. A 
sophism may be detected, but who can refute 
a sneer. When infidelity ceased to be con- 
fined to the circles of philosophers, and be- 
gan to court the approbation of the crowd, 



136 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



it abandoned whatever dignity and elegance 
it formerly possessed, and descended to the 
lowest forms of buffoonery. It dropped the 
mask of the sage, assumed the character of 
the harlequin, relinquished argument, and be- 
took itself to ribaldry. The design of the 
French philosophers was not to discuss the 
merits of Christianity, but to present it in 
false lights, to exhibit it in uncouth and re- 
volting attitudes, to attach disgusting or ridi- 
culous associations with its peculiar doctrines, 
and to cover it with the contempt which was 
due only to the odious pictures themselves had 
drawn. It has been the trick of the profane, 
in every age, to deride the pretensions to 
spiritual religion, and it requires no ordinary 
degree of courage, to resist the contempt to 
which the profession of vital religion is ex- 
posed in the world. When it is industrious- 
ly connected with ideas of littleness, mean- 
ness, and fanaticism, represented as the prop- 
erty of narrow spirits and of coward hearts, 
the temptation is very strong to be ashamed 
of its doctrines, its promises, and its hopes. 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



137 



Such is the depravity of men, that singular 
virtue is made the object of reproach, while 
singular vice, or singular error, may be the 
means of distinction. Hence our Saviour 
brings the awful sanctions of eternity to bear 
upon those who are in danger of surrender- 
ing truth to a jest — their honest opinions to 
raillery and banter. He points to a shame 
with which sin shall be finally accompanied, 
more tremendous and appalling than all the 
reproaches of men — an everlasting contempt 
which shall astonish and overwhelm the guil- 
ty — when God shall laugh at his calamity, 
and mock when his fear cometh. u Whoso- 
ever is ashamed of me, and of my words, of 
him also shall the Son of man be ashamed 
when he comes in the glory of the Father 
with the holy angels." 

We should particularly guard against the 
irregular influence of shame, because its op- 
erations do not always stop at the suppression 
or concealment of obnoxious opinions. The 
rebukes of conscience must be silenced by 
pleas, and the self-respect we have forfeited 



138 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



must be regained by evasions. He who is 
ashamed of the truth will soon proceed to 
condemn it. He who is afraid to profess 
Christ will soon be tempted to deny him. 
He that is not prepared to suffer will soon be 
induced to betray. That character alone is 
great in which the love of truth is supreme, 
habitually superior to the clamours of preju- 
dice, the surmises of ignorance, and the jeers 
of contempt. 

I have now described briefly and rapidly 
the characteristics of the love of truth, which 
was previously evinced to be a duty, and 
pointed out some of the dangers to which we 
are exposed, of foregoing its claims. My de- 
sign has been to commend this spirit to your 
hearts. It is the foundation of all solid ex- 
cellence. It gives stability to character, and 
distinguishes firmness from obstinacy. It 
makes the man of .principle. You may be 
distinguished in the world without it ; but you 
never can have the approbation of your own 
hearts, or the smile of God. You never can 
perfect and adorn your natures. Learn to in- 



THE LOVE OF TRUTH. 



139 



vestigate, to examine, to try the principles 
that are proposed to you, and make it a fixed 
rule to regulate your assent by no authority 
but that of evidence. Never be in love with 
opinions upon any foreign or adventitious 
grounds; cleave to them only because they 
are the truth. Hear instruction, and be wise, 
and refuse it not. "Blessed," says Divine 
Wisdom, u is the man that heareth me, watch- 
ing daily at my gates, waiting at the posts of 
my doors. For whoso findeth me, findeth 
life, and shall obtain favour of the Lord. But 
he that sinneth against me wrongeth his own 
soul; all they that hate me love death." 



$ i n 1 1 r t 1 2 . 



u Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true — think on 
these things." — Philippiajsts, iv. 8. 

^ rnri TTr Truth may be considered in 
DISC. IT. J 

two leading aspects, either as 

having reference to the correspondence of 
our convictions with the reality of things, 
which may be called speculative truth, or 
truth of opinion ; or as having reference to the 
correspondence of our expressions with the 
reality of our convictions, which, in contra- 
distinction from the former, may be called 
practical truth, or truth of life and conduct. 
The one protects our minds from imposition 
and error, the other protects our lips from 
treachery and falsehood. The one keeps us 
from being deceived, the other from deceiv- 
ing. The love of truth, as a general habit, 
equally includes them both ; it makes us cau- 



SINCERITY . 



141 



tious, discriminating and attentive to evi- 
dence, in the process by which our opinions 
are formed, and exact, prudent and scrupu- 
lous in the testimony by which we communi- 
cate our judgments to others. The love of 
truth, as a general habit, and as applying to 
our speculative inquiries, has already been 
sufficiently considered. It remains now to 
discuss the second great branch of the sub- 
ject, practical truth, or truth of life and con- 
duct. 

This seems to me to include three things. 
First, sincerity, which obtains whenever the 
signs, whatever they may be, by which we in- 
tentionally communicate ideas, exactly repre- 
sent the state of our own convictions. The 
standard of this species of truth is a man's 
own thoughts. As the design of speech is 
not directly and immediately to express the 
nature and properties of things, but our own 
conceptions in regard to them, he that utters 
what he thinks, is not wanting in veracity, 
however his thoughts may fail to correspond 
to the realities themselves. Distinguished 



142 



SINCERITY. 



casuists have, accordingly, defined veracity to 
be a moral virtue, inclining men to represent 
phenomena according to their own apprehen- 
sions.' 55 ' The matter of it they make twofold, 
immediate and remote ;f the immediate con- 
sisting in the correspondence of the statement 
with the conviction of the speaker, the re- 
mote in the correspondence of the conviction 
to the thing itself. The concurrence of the 

* Thomas Aquinas's Summa. 2. 2. quest. 110, art. 1. Dens. Theol., 
Mor. and Dog., vol. iv. p. 306. De Veritate. 

f The distinction of Aquinas is into matter and form. The 
matter of a proposition being its truth or falsehood abstractly- 
considered ; the form, its truth or falsehood according to the be- 
lief of the speaker. 

A proposition may, obviously, be contemplated in two lights, 
either abstractly as a naked affirmation or denial, and then the 
matter of it is the thing, whatever it may be, which is asserted 
or denied ; or relatively, according to the purpose and intention 
of the speaker, and then the matter of it is the apprehension of 
his own mind ; it affirms or denies, not what is, except per acci- 
dens, but what he believes. When the question is in reference to 
the truth of the thing, the matter, in the first aspect, is the 
point of inquiry ; when the question is in reference to the sin- 
cerity of the speaker, the matter, in the second, is all that is 
important. This is, indeed, the sole matter of veracity, but not 
the sole matter of the proposition. Hence, the distinction into 
proximate and remote is a convenient one, if it be borne in mind 
that the proximate is the essence of veracity, as it respects the 
speaker ; the remote, of the proposition abstractly considered as 
true or false. The most common distinction, however, is into 
matter and form; the matter having reference to the proposi- 
tion itself, the form to the belief of the speaker. 



SINCERITY. 



143 



two is a safeguard against all deception from 
testimony. It is then perfect and complete. 
With this double distinction of the matter of 
veracity, it is easily conceivable that a man may 
veraciously utter what is false, and falsely 
utter what is true. If he affirms that to be 
true which he believes to be false, or affirms 
that to be false which he believes to be true, 
though in each case his belief may be er- 
roneous, and things be exactly as he repre- 
sents them, he is guilty of deceit — he has 
spoken against his mind — the proximate or 
immediate matter of veracity is wanting. 
This proximate matter is what modern writers 
have denominated physical or logical, and the 
remote what they have denominated, moral 
truth. It is evident that in the former the 
essence of sincerity consists, and upon the 
latter the value of testimony, as an independ- 
ent source of knowledge, depends. u If there 
be an agreement, 1 5 says South," who, in his 
definition of a lie, has followed Augustine, 
"if there be an agreement between our words 

* Sermon on Falsehood, Prov. xii. 32. 



144 



SINCEKITY. 



and our thoughts, we do not speak falsely, 
though it sometimes so falls out, that our 
words agree not with the things themselves ; 
upon which account, though in so speaking, 
we offend indeed against truth ; yet we offend 
not properly by falsehood, which is a speak- 
ing against our thoughts ; but by rashness, 
which is affirming or denying, before we 
have sufficiently informed ourselves of the 
real and true estate of those things whereof 
we affirm or deny." It is certainly incum- 
bent upon men to guard against imposture 
and error, and where their judgments have 
been hastily formed, without due attention to 
the evidence within their reach, or under the 
influence of prejudice and passion, their mis- 
takes are not without guilt. They sin against 
the truth in the absence of that spirit of in- 
difference, impartiality and candid inquiry in 
which the love of it consists, though they are 
not chargeable with insincerity or deceit in 
their communications to others. The differ- 
ence betwixt a mistake and a lie is, that in 
the one case the speaker himself is deceived, 



SINCERITY. 



145 



in the other he proposes to deceive others. 
A mistake always, a lie never, has the prox- 
imate matter of veracity. 

The second branch of practical truth re- 
quires that our actions correspond with our 
professions. This is called faithfulness, and 
consists in fulfilling the engagements and 
meeting the expectations which we have 
knowingly and voluntarily excited. This sub- 
ject is being discussed under the head of 
veracity ; but faithfulness is evidently a mixed 
virtue, combining the elements of justice and 
of truth. A promise or a contract creates a 
right in another party — and the obligation to 
fulfil it arises accordingly, not simply from 
the general obligation of veracity, but from 
the specific obligation, which corresponds 
to my neighbour's right. Hence, breach of 
promise is something more than a lie, it is a 
fraud — it cheats a man of his own. 

The third thing involved in practical 
truth, is consistency or harmony of character. 
Truth is one, and the life of the good man 
must be a reflection of its unity. Fluctua- 

7 



146 



SINCEKITY. 



tions and fickleness of opinion, or of conduct, 
are certain indications of gross dishonesty of 
heart, or of gross imbecility of understanding. 
When a man often shifts his principles, it 
is not truth, but imagined interest that he 
stands on ; and he who is under the frequent 
necessity, as the phrase goes, of " defining his 
position" has no position that is worth defin- 
ing, and is fit for no position of any moment. 

These three, sincerity, faithfulness, and 
consistency, comprise the whole duty of prac- 
tical veracity. The opposite of the first is 
deceit, in its protean shapes of lying, hypoc- 
risy and flattery ; the opposite of the second 
is fraud, and the opposite of the third is in- 
constancy or fickleness. 

Before proceeding to a more detailed dis- 
cussion of these subjects, it may be well to 
adjust a preliminary question in reference to 
the grounds of the obligation of veracity. 
Paley resolves them into contract.* u A lie," 
says he, "is a breach of promise: for whoever 
seriously addresses his discourse to another, 

* Moral and Political Philosophy. — Book iii. Chap. 5. 



SINCERITY. 



147 



tacitly promises to speak the truth, because 
he knows that the truth is expected." To say 
nothing of the fact that a promise pre-sup- 
poses the veracity of the promiser as the 
measure of its engagement, that it is nothing 
and can be nothing except on the supposition 
that the promiser really conveys the purpose 
of his mind, the theory labours under another 
difficulty. It is not enough to constitute a 
promise that expectations are entertained — 
they must - be knowingly and voluntarily ex- 
cited by ourselves. It is nothing worth, 
therefore, to affirm that because truth is ex- 
pected when we seriously address our dis- 
course to another, therefore we have tacitly 
promised to speak it, unless it can be shown 
that this expectation has been intentionally 
produced by our agency. We are not bound 
by any other expectations of men, but those 
which we have authorized. It is idle, there- 
fore, to pretend to a contract in the case. If 
Dr. Paley had pushed his inquiries a little 
further, he might have accounted for this ex- 
pectation, which certainly exists, independ- 



148 



SINCERITY. 



ently of a promise, upon principles firmer and 
surer than any he has admitted in the struc- 
ture of his philosophy. He might have seen 
in it the language of our nature proclaiming 
the will of our nature's God. It is surprising 
to what an extent this superficial theory of 
contract has found advocates among divines 
and moralists. " Upon the principles of nat- 
ural reason," says South, in a passage of 
which the extract from Paley may be regard- 
ed as an abridgment, "the unlawfulness of 
lying is grounded upon this, that a lie is 
properly a sort or species of injustice, and a 
violation of the right of that person to whom 
the false speech is directed ; for all speaking, 
or signification of one's mind, implies, in the 
nature of it, an act or address of one man 
to another; it being evident that no man, 
though he does speak false, can be said to lie 
to himself. Now, to show what this right is, 
we must know that in the beginnings and 
first establishments of speech, there was an 
implicit compact amongst men, founded upon 
common use and consent, that such and such 



SINCEEITY. 



149 



words or voices, actions or gestures, should be 
means or signs, whereby they would express 
or convey their thoughts one to another; 
and that men should be obliged to use them 
for that purpose ; forasmuch as without such 
an obligation, those signs could not be effect- 
ual for such an end. From which compact, 
there arising an obligation upon every one 
so to convey his meaning, there accrues also 
a right to every one, by the same signs to 
judge of the sense or meaning of the per- 
son so obliged to express himself ; and con- 
sequently if these signs are applied and used 
by him, so as not to signify his meaning, the 
right of the person, to whom he was oblig- 
ed so to have done, is hereby violated, and 
the man, by being deceived and kept ignorant 
of his neighbour's meaning, where he ought 
to have known it, is so far deprived of the 
benefit of any intercourse or converse with 
him." 

If men once existed in a state of solitary 
independence, as destitute of language as 
of society, it is impossible to conceive how 



150 



SINCERITY. 



they could have established a mutual un- 
derstanding and concerted the signs which 
were subsequently to be employed as the ve- 
hicles of thought. There must have been 
some mode of communication, or the conven- 
tion in question becomes utterly impracti- 
cable. Whatever that mode might be, the 
obligation of veracity applied to it, in order 
that it might be effectual, and an arrange- 
ment which presupposes, cannot be the 
source of a duty. Men were either bound 
to represent their thoughts honestly to each 
other, when they came together to frame an 
artificial language, or they were not. If they 
were previously bound, the obligation can- 
not spring from any agreement entered into 
at the time — if they were not, there is no 
security that the terms of the agreement 
express the intentions of the parties, and no 
evidence, accordingly, that any real promise 
was made. Such are the inconsistencies inci- 
dent to all explanations of the origin of 
society and language, which overlook the 
historical facts of the Bible. Man was 



SINCERITY. 



151 



evidently created a social being and with the 
gift of speech. He was as much adapted, 
when he came from the hands of God, to 
intercourse with his fellows by the possession 
of language, as by the possession of those in- 
stincts, passions and affections, which make 
the home, the family and the State, indis- 
pensable to his progress and developement. 
He was born in society and for society ; it 
is not a condition which he has voluntarily 
selected from a calculation of its conveniences 
and comforts ; it is the condition in which 
God has placed him, and from which he can- 
not be divorced. Language is arbitrary in 
the sense that there is, except to a very lim- 
ited extent, no natural analogy between 
sounds and the thoughts they represent ; it 
is not arbitrary in the sense that it is purely 
the product of the human will ; it is not an 
invention, but a faculty, and, like all other 
faculties, capable of improvement or abuse. 

The account which Dr. Whewell gives in 
his Elements of Morality,* of the obligation 

* Elements of Morality, book iii, chap. 15, § 386. 



152 



SINCERITY. 



of veracity, though it is free from the pa- 
ralogisms of Paley and South, and the the- 
ory of contract, is not unincumbered with 
difficulties of its own. Among the springs 
of action he enumerates the need of a mu- 
tual understanding among men — speaks of 
this as a need rather than a desire, it being 
u rather a necessity of man's condition than 
an object of his conscious desire." " We 
see this necessity," he continues, tc even in 
animals, especially in those which are gre- 
garious. In their associated condition, they 
derive help and advantage from one an- 
other ; and many of them, especially those 
that live, travel, or hunt in companies, are 
seen to reckon upon each others' actions with 
great precision and confidence. In societies 
of men, this mutual aid and reliance are no 
less necessary than among beavers or bees. 
But in man, this aid and reliance are not 
the work of mere instinct. There must be 
a mutual understanding, by which men learn 
to anticipate and to depend upon the actions 
of each other. This mutual understanding 



SINCERITY. 



153 



presupposes that man has the power of de- 
termining his future actions, and that he has 
the power of making other men aware of 
his determination. It presupposes purpose 
as its matter, and language as its instrument." 

It is clear that Dr. Whewell had princi- 
pally in view promises and contracts, those 
purposes of our own in regard to the future, 
which have given rise to expectations in 
others, in conformity with which they have 
adjusted their plans and regulated their con- 
duct. Mutual understanding is a necessity 
only where deceit is an injury. There are 
cases of falsehood, in which it would be 
hard to prove that any shock is given to 
society, provided it were understood that 
the prevarication, in these cases, was not in- 
consistent with the strictest integrity, where 
confidence was really important. Upon Dr. 
Whewell's principles, the law of veracity is 
not universal, embracing every instance and 
form in which one man communicates ideas 
to another ; it extends only to those contin- 
gencies in which we have entered into 

7* 



154 



SINCE KIT Y. 



virtual engagements. He could convict jest- 
ing and foolish talking of guilt only on the 
ground, that they imperceptibly disturb our 
love of truth and undermine the security of our 
faithfulness, and gradually introduce us into 
fraud and treachery. They are not wrong, 
upon his hypothesis, essentially and inher- 
ently, but only indirectly and contingently. 

In the next place, it is not explained how 
this need of mutual understanding operates 
as a spring of action. It is denied to be 
a conscious desire — it is denied to be an 
instinct — by which, I suppose, he means a 
blind craving of our nature. What then 
is it? If it expresses simply a necessity of 
our condition as social, we are either con- 
scious of this necessity, or we are not. If 
we are not conscious of it, it can have no 
possible influence upon us. It will be to 
us as though it existed not. If we are con- 
scious of it, then it must produce desire, and 
that desire must lead to expedients to grat- 
ify it. Speaking the truth, as the means of 
satisfying this craving of our nature, would 



SINCERITY. 



155 



consequently be the suggestion of reason. 
This, I think, is what the learned author 
meant, although some expressions he has 
used are hardly reconcilable with it. If so, 
the obligation of veracity is a deduction of 
the understanding from the circumstances 
in which we are placed. The end to be 
gained is first distinctly suggested by a 
sense of need, and veracity is enforced as 
the only conceivable expedient by which it 
can be accomplished. Hence the law of 
truth is not a primary and fundamental da- 
tum of consciousness, but a secondary and 
subordinate principle, which requires some 
knowledge of our social relations in order 
to its developement. The statement of these 
difficulties is a sufficient refutation of the 
hypothesis. 

The real ground upon which the obliga- 
tion of this, as ultimately the obligation of 
every other duty, must be made to rest, is 
the will of God, as expressed in the constitu- 
tion of the human mind. Truth is natural. 
There are two principles, or laws, impressed 



156 



SINCERITY. 



upon every man, by which he is adapted to 
social intercourse, and which operate inde- 
pendently of any consciousness, on his part, 
of their subserviency to the interests of 
society, and which manifest themselves in 
the form of dispositions, one prompting him 
to speak the truth himself, and the other to 
believe that others speak it. No man ever 
tells a lie without a certain degree of vio- 
lence to his nature. Motives must inter- 
vene, of fear, or hope, or vanity, or shame 
— temptations, as in the case of all other 
vices, must take place, in order that the 
contradiction to our nature and the whole 
current of our thoughts or feelings, involved 
in a falsehood, may obtain. It is not the 
spontaneous native offspring of the soul — ■ 
it is the creature of passion and of lust. It 
is in consequence of this constitution of the 
mind, with reference to truth and social in- 
tercourse, that the expectation of which Dr. 
Paley speaks, as always existing when we 
seriously address our discourse to another, 
springs up in the breast. This expectation 



SINCERITY. 



157 



is only the manifestation of our natural ten- 
dency to speak the truth and to credit the 
statements of others. When we look at our- 
selves, we see that God has impressed upon 
our souls the law of truth. We see that he 
has fitted us to trust, at the same time, in 
others ; and though both dispositions are 
indulged long antecedently to any knowl- 
edge of the important bearing of such ele- 
ments of our being upon the interests of 
society, yet the subsequent developement of 
these relations strengthens our attachment 
to truth and enlarges our views of the wis- 
dom of God. The author of our nature 
has made provision for a mutual understand- 
ing among men, and not left them, under the 
influence of a blind craving, to make pro- 
vision for themselves. Our social affections 
might just as reasonably be ascribed to a 
vague desire of society, prompting to the 
invention of expedients for its indulgence, 
as our disposition to speak the truth, to a 
vague craving for the interchange of thought. 
To those, therefore, who would ask, Why am 



158 



SINCERITY. 



I bound to speak the truth? I would 
briefly answer, because it is the law of my 
nature ; it is a fundamental datum of con- 
science ; a command of God impressed upon 
the moral structure of the soul. It can be 
resolved into no higher principle — it is 
simple, elementary, ultimate. In this view 
of the case, it deserves further to be re- 
marked, that the obligation is universal, 
and not restricted to promises or contracts. 
It is not only natural to fulfil the expect- 
ations we knowingly and voluntarily excite, 
but it is equally natural, that in the use of 
signs to communicate ideas, we should fairly 
and honestly represent the thoughts of our 
own minds. In every case, nature prompts 
us to speak and expect the truth, and it is 
not until experience has taught us that our 
confidence is often abused that we learn to 
limit our credulity, and even then, "not- 
withstanding the lessons of caution commu- 
nicated to us by experience, there is scarcely 
a man to be found," as Dr. Reid has properly 
remarked, " who is not more credulous than 



SINCERITY. 



159 



he ought to be, and who does not, upon 
many occasions give credit to tales which not 
only turn out to be perfectly false, but which 
a very moderate degree of reflection and at- 
tention might have taught him could not 
well be true. The natural disposition is 
always to believe. It is acquired wisdom 
and experience alone that teach incredulity, 
and they very seldom teach it enough." 

Having now explained the ground of the 
obligation of veracity, I proceed to con- 
sider the duties which are involved in the 
general law of sincerity. 

This law is, that the signs, whatever they 
may be, by which we intentionally commu- 
nicate ideas, should correspond as exactly 
as possible with the thoughts they are em- 
ployed to represent. 

1. The first thing here to be noted is, 
that truth is not to be restricted to speech. 
Language is not the only vehicle of thought. 
A greater prominence is given to it than to 
any other sign, because it is the most com- 
mon and important instrument of social com- 



160 



SINCERITY. 



munication. But the same rule of sincerity 
which is to regulate the use of it, applies to 
all the media by which we consciously pro- 
duce impressions upon the minds of others. 
Augustin defines a lie to be the false signi- 
fication of a word for the purpose of deceit, 
and intimates that by the term word, he 
means any and every significant sign, whether 
spoken or written, whether natural or arti- 
ficial — gestures, actions, looks, or ejaculations. 
It may be also added, that the absence of 
any signs, or the omission to use them, may 
have the effect of suggesting thoughts, and 
when we neglect them from this consider- 
ation, we are responsible for the effect pro- 
duced. A lie, then, is compendiously " any 
false signification, knowingly and voluntarily 
used," no matter what may be the instru- 
ments employed for the purpose. He who 
responds to the question of a traveller con- 
cerning the road by pointing in a wrong 
direction, who nods to a proposal which he 
does not mean to accept, who omits in a 
narrative a circumstance without which an 



SINCERITY. 



161 



erroneous judgment cannot but be formed 
in the case, or so arranges his facts as to 
lead naturally and justly to inferences that 
are false ; he who in these, or in any other 
ways, consciously misleads his neighbour, is 
as really wanting in sincerity and as truly 
guilty of a lie as if he had deceived by 
words. Appearances kept up for the pur- 
pose of deceiving, such as a splendid equip- 
age by one whose income is inadequate to 
the expense ; hurry and bustle in a phy- 
sician without patients ; a multitude of pa- 
pers by a lawyer without briefs ; and all sim- 
ilar tricks for effect, belong to this species of 
dissembling. South thinks that though the 
principle is the same in each case, the term 
lie is distinctly applied to deception by words, 
and simulation or hypocrisy to deception by 
gestures, actions, or behaviour. I appre- 
hend, however, that hypocrisy, according to 
general usage, denotes only a particular 
species of this deception. It refers to 
the personation of a character that does 
not belong to us. We are hypocrites only 



162 



SINCERITY. 



as we pretend to be that which we are 
not. 

2. The application of the law, in the case 
of parables, fictions, tales and figurative lan- 
guage, such as hyperbole and irony, is not 
to the details and subordinate statements, 
but to the moral, which, as a whole, they are 
intended to illustrate. Dr. Paley has strange- 
ly enumerated these under the head of false- 
hoods, which are not lies, attaching them 
to the same class with the disingenuous 
assertions of an advocate in pleading a 
cause, or with a servant's denial of his mas- 
ter. But in these cases there is evidently, 
in no proper sense, any falsehood at all. 
The fable, parable, or tale, taken as a whole, 
may be and is regarded as a species of 
proposition, in which the lesson to be in- 
culcated is all that is strictly affirmed. The 
rest is drapery, mere conceptions of the im- 
agination, intended to illustrate and place 
in commanding lights, the ultimate truth to 
be taught. They are not proposed as facts, 
but rather as the signs and representatives 



SINCERITY. 



163 



of what might be facts. They are, in other 
words, only the language in which the 
proposition is enonnced. When a man hon- 
estly believes the moral of his tale, what- 
ever may be its ingredients and subordinate 
circumstances, he is not wanting in sincerity. 
The pictures of his fancy are not the things 
which he affirms. If, however, he should 
invent a story to enforce a proposition which 
he believes to be false, he would then vio- 
late the obligation of veracity. It is only 
where the end aimed at is contradictory to 
a man's own convictions that these contriv- 
ances of the imagination possess either the 
form or matter of falsehood. Of course, if 
a man should assert the details of a fable, 
parable, or fiction, as facts, without believing 
them himself, he would be justly subject 
to the imputation of lying, as he would be 
equally subject, if he believed them, to the 
imputation of insanity. 

3. There is a form of simulation which is 
resorted to for the purpose of exciting curi- 
osity, stimulating attention, conveying in- 



164 



SINCERITY. 



struction, or exploring and bringing to light 
what otherwise might not be known. It is a 
species of interrogatory by action. It has 
the same effect on the mind as the asking of 
a question. When our Saviour made as 
though he would have gone further, he ef- 
fectually questioned his disciples as to the 
condition of their hearts in relation to the 
duties of hospitality. The angels, in pre- 
tending that it was their purpose to abide 
in the street all night, made the same ex- 
periment on Lot. This species of simulation 
involves no falsehood — its design is not to 
deceive, but to catechize or instruct. The 
whole action is to be regarded as a sign by 
which a question is proposed, or the mind 
excited to such a degree of curiosity and 
attention, that lessons of truth can be suc- 
cessfully imparted. The command to Abra- 
ham to sacrifice his son involved a series 
of practical interrogatories, to which no 
other form of proposing them could have 
elicited such satisfactory responses. The 
principle holds here, which obtains in refer- 



SINCEKITY. 



165 



ence to fictions and fables. The action is 
only the dress of the thought, and where 
the purpose in view is honourable and just, 
no exceptions can be taken, on the score 
of veracity, to the drapery in which it is 
adorned. But when it has no ulterior ob- 
ject, when it is not in fact a sign, it is 
then to be reckoned as deceit. It is to be 
judged of simply as it is in itself. Just 
as the details of a fiction, if represented 
absolutely and as facts, are to be regarded 
as departures from veracity. Even if ca- 
pricious simulations were not, as they are, 
lies, they are so much like them, that he 
who accustoms himself to indulge in this 
species of conduct, must insensibly lose his 
impressions of the sacredness of truth, and 
forfeit that delicate sensibility to its claims, 
upon which sincerity depends. It is dan- 
gerous to sport even on the verge of guilt. 
The least that can be said, with any show of 
reason, is, that unmeaning pretences are 
analogous to foolish talking and jesting, 
which are not convenient. It is especially 



166 



SINCERITY. 



important, in the education of children, that 
we allow ourselves in no conduct, which 
may insensibly affect them with light thoughts 
of the evil of hypocrisy. The child who 
sees his parents frequently feigning, without 
reason, or merely for amusement, will be a 
dull scholar in depravity, if he should not 
speedily conclude that he also may feign, 
when his interests or malice require it. 

4. The law of sincerity is not violated in 
those cases of silence, or of partial and 
evasive information, (which, however, must 
always be correct, as far as it goes,) in which 
the design is not deception, but conceal- 
ment. There are things which men have 
a right to keep secret, and if a prurient 
curiosity prompts others officiously to pry 
into them, there is nothing criminal or dishon- 
est in refusing to minister to such a spirit. 
Our silence, or evasive answers, may have 
the effect of misleading — that is not our 
fault, as it was not our design. Our purpose 
was simply to leave the inquirer, as nearly 
as possible, in the state of ignorance in 



SINCERITY. 



167 



which we found him — it was not to misin- 
form, but not to inform at all. "Every 
man," says Dr. Dick, " has not a right to 
hear the truth when he chooses to demand 
it. We are not bound to answer every ques- 
tion which may be proposed to us. In such 
cases we may be silent, or we may give as 
much information as we please and suppress 
the rest. If the person afterwards discover 
that the information was partial, he has no 
title to complain, because he had not a right 
even to what he obtained; and we are not 
guilty of a falsehood, unless we made him 
believe, by something which we said, that 
the information was complete. We are at 
liberty to put off with an evasive answer, 
the man who attempts to draw from us 
what we ought to conceal." This principle 
is certainly recognized in the Scriptures. 
When Jeremiah was interrogated of the 
Princes in relation to the interview which 
he had with the King, he concealed the 
principal design of it, which was to recom- 
mend submission to the Chaldeans, and dis- 



168 



SINCERITY. 



closed only the petition, that the King would 
not remand him to Jonathan's house. Sam- 
uel was instructed by the Lord to act upon 
the same principle, in order to avoid the 
danger to which he was exposed from the 
resentment of Saul, if the real purpose of 
his mission to Bethlehem, when he went to 
anoint David, were known. "And Samuel 
said, how can I go ? If Saul hear it, he will 
kill me. And the Lord said, Take an heifer 
with thee, and say I am come to sacrifice to 
the Lord." 

The principle, of course, can only be ap- 
plied to those cases where we have a right 
to conceal. But all partial and evasive an- 
swers, when we are bound to speak the 
whole truth, or when they are given for the 
purpose of deception, are inconsistent with 
veracity. Then a man does not hide, but 
lie. 

It may be asked whether a direct false- 
hood is not lawful when it is uttered only 
for the purpose of concealment. Sir Walter 
Scott, it is well known, defended his denial 



SINCERITY. 



169 



to the Prince of Wales, of his being the au- 
thor of the Waverly Novels, on the ground 
that it was a matter which he was anxious 
to keep secret, and that he could not do it 
in any other way, but by the course which 
he had pursued. In all such cases, however, 
the immediate end is deception — concealment 
is only a remote one. We intend to deceive 
in order to conceal. We do not cover, but 
misrepresent our mind, which can never be 
lawful, however important the ends it is 
intended to accomplish; and when these 
ends are incapable of being answered in 
any other way, we should take it as a clear 
intimation from Providence, that we are re- 
quired to abandon them. In the case just 
mentioned, Scott might have been silent, 
might have changed the subject, might have 
protested against the question ; and although 
such evasions might have been considered 
equivalent to a confession, yet a disclaimer 
on his part that he meant them in that light, 
would have still left the matter in some de- 
gree of uncertainty. Guilt, in such cases, 

8 



170 



SINCEKITY. 



is not confined to the party who prevaricates 
or lies. He who asks impertinent questions 
is chargeable with the sin of putting a stumb- 
ling block in his brother's way. He is a 
tempter to evil. 

Having made these general explanations, 
which seemed to be necessary in order to an 
adequate comprehension of the subject, I pro- 
ceed to indicate some of the modes in which 
the law of sincerity is evaded, after which I 
shall discuss the question, whether, under any 
circumstances, it can be dispensed with ; this 
being, perhaps, the most satisfactory method 
of elucidating the nature and extent of its 
application — more definite, certainly, than 
vague statements of what it requires, which, 
at best, are little more than repetitions of the 
definition. 

1. The light in which Aristotle treats of 
truth, in his Nichomachean Ethics, is that of 
simplicity of conduct, and the extremes of 
which he regards it as the medium, are vain 
boasting and self-disparagement. u There are 
men," says he, u who arrogate to themselves 



SINCERITY. 



171 



good qualities of which they are entirely des- 
titute, and who amplify the good qualities of 
which they are possessed far beyond their 
real measure and natural worth. The ironi- 
cal dissembler (I should prefer to translate 
the word self-disparager) on the other hand, 
either conceals his advantages, or, if he can- 
not conceal, endeavours to depreciate their 
value, whereas the man of frankness and plain 
dealing shows his character in its natural size ; 
truth appears in all his words and actions, 
which represent him exactly as he is, without 
addition and without diminution." There are 
forms in which these vices are as common as 
they are disgusting. Some endeavour to ex- 
aggerate their importance by pretending to 
an intimacy with the great to which they are 
not entitled, and others to depreciate the ex- 
cellencies for which they are distinguished, 
only to elicit flattery and praise. In both 
cases, it is the hypocrisy of vanity ; and in 
both cases the actor is guilty of a lie. 

The most serious form of hypocrisy, how- 
ever, is that in which a man pretends to a 



172 



SINCERITY. 



character to which he is really a stranger. 
No vice is more severely condemned in the 
New Testament than this. u But woe unto 
you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ! for ye 
shut up the kingdom of heaven against men : 
for ye neither go in yourselves, neither suffer 
ye them that are entering to go in." This 
terrible malediction, from lips that were not 
given to the language of denunciation, is re- 
peated no less than seven times in the prog- 
ress of a single discourse, and the most strik- 
ing imagery, such as whited sepulchres, beau- 
tiful without, but within full of dead men's 
bones and all uncleanness, is employed to de- 
pict the hatefulness of the sin. The only 
honest way of maintaining the appearance of 
virtue is to possess the reality. Every other 
method is a cheat. 

2. The law of sincerity is as inconsistent 
with adulation and flattery as it is with hy- 
pocrisy. The hypocrite and flatterer belong 
to the same genus; one lies about himself, 
the other about his neighbour, but both are 
equally liars. Affability, or courtesy, an in- 



SINCERITY. 173 

separable element of refined and elegant man- 
ners, is as remote, as Aristotle long ago point- 
ed out, from flattery, on the one hand, as 
from moroseness, on the other. Persons of 
station and influence are apt to be surround- 
ed with a crow d of sycophants who vie with 
each other in concealing their defects, exag- 
gerating their virtues and lauding their vices. 
To become an encomiast of sin, seems to be 
the last point of degradation to which a ra- 
tional being can be sunk, and yet it is the 
point to which all flattery tends, and which 
many a flatterer has reached. This vice is 
sometimes contracted from malice, from the 
wicked design of exposing the weak and 
credulous to ridicule, by possessing them 
with the belief that they are distinguished for 
qualities which do not belong to them ; some- 
times from selfishness, from the base desire of 
rendering the vanity of another subservient to 
our purposes and schemes — sometimes from 
weakness, from a sickly delicacy of temper, 
which shrinks from giving pain, or from in- 
curring the resentment to which honest truth 



174 



SINCEKITY. 



might give rise. There are degrees of malig- 
nity in the vice according to the motives and 
ends which prompt to it. But in every form 
it is a departure from truth, as well as a de- 
parture from that charity which meditates no 
wrong to another. u A man that flattereth 
his neighbour spreadeth a net for his feet." 

3. There is another form of falsehood 
which, in its effects, is analogous to flattery, 
and, in its nature, is a species of hypocrisy. 
It consists in pretensions to a friendship 
which is not felt. The world thinks so little 
of this kind of lying that, except in flagrant 
and aggravated cases, it hardly takes the 
trouble to censure it when exposed. It has 
caused friendship to come to be esteemed as 
little more than a name. 

This vice is peculiarly hateful, as it gains a 
confidence which is too often prostituted to 
the ruin of the unsuspecting and credulous. 
It was in the mask of friendship that the devil 
entered the garden and insinuated the lie 
which brought " death into the world with all 
our woe" — in the mask of friendship Judas 



SINCERITY. 



175 



kissed his Master to betray Him ; and in the 
mask of friendship Satan now comes to us as 
an angel of light to seduce us from our alle- 
giance to God. There is no point of practical 
morality which needs more to be inculcated, 
than the sacred duty of abstaining from every 
species of conduct or expression, that would 
induce men to believe that we think more 
highly of them than we do. The customs of 
society are such that, without perpetual vigil- 
ance, we are liable to deceive our neighbours 
upon this point. The civilities of life should 
never be so exaggerated as to create the im- 
pression of extraordinary regard, where ex- 
traordinary regard does not exist. The affec- 
tation of unusual sweetness of expression or 
blandness of manner, honeyed words, soft and 
insinuating tones — a lingering pressure of the 
hand — apparent reluctance to quit one's socie- 
ty, all these and similar expedients are arrant 
lies, if the victim of the tricks is, after all, no- 
thing more than a stranger ; and yet, by such 
tricks, the confidence of thousands is flattered 
out of them by knaves and cheats, to their 



176 



SINCERITY. 



utter ruio. The vice is well called perfidy, 
and those who are guilty of it are emphatical- 
ly children of the devil. " Instruments of 
cruelty are in their habitations. Oh my soul ! 
come not thou into their secret; unto their as- 
sembly, mine honour, be not thou united." 

4. It is hardly necessary to add, after 
what has been said of the nature of sincerity, 
that equivocation is inconsistent with its 
claims. It consists either in an abuse of the 
ambiguity of language, or in partial state- 
ments of the truth, for the purpose of pro- 
ducing an erroneous impression of the whole. 
The promise of Temures to the Garrison of 
Sebastia, that if it would surrender, not a 
drop of blood should be shed, was grammat- 
ically susceptible of the meaning in which he 
kept it, though the garrrison understood it 
as conveying a pledge of exemption from 
punishment. He was just as truly guilty of 
a falsehood in burying them alive, though he 
shed no blood, as if he had promised, in so 
many words, to spare their lives. Words 
were not meant to conceal, but to convey 



SINCERITY. 



177 



thoughts; and if a man takes advantage of 
their ambiguity to make a grammatical truth 
subservient to deceit, he fails to represent his 
own thoughts. He speaks against his mind. 
The idea which he excites in another, is not 
the idea which exists in himself. 

The other mode of equivocation, by partial 
statements, is liable to the same objection. 
It does not reproduce our own convictions in 
another. Our minds are not read, touching 
the matter in question, by our neighbour. 

Equivocation may exist in action as well 
as in words. We have an example in the 
case of Ananias and Sapphira. They sold 
their lands — brought a part of the price and 
laid it down at the Apostles' feet. They 
wished to produce the impression that they 
were as liberal and magnanimous as Barnabas 
and the other believers, who had sold their 
possessions, and devoted the whole to the 
service of the Church. The language ac- 
cordingly of their conduct was — that this 
is the whole price of the land. They uttered 

no falsehood in words — they simply acted 

8* 



178 



SINCEKITY. 



a cheat ; and the light in which God regards 
such equivocation, is manifested in the super- 
natural judgment which overtook them. 

5. Mental reservations, when what is sup- 
pressed is not obvious from the circumstances, 
and it is necessary to prevent deception, 
are downright lies. What is kept to one's 
self is not signified. It is the signs which 
one uses, not those which he suppresses, 
which convey his thoughts to another, and 
if those which he uses are not in correspond- 
ence with his convictions, he signifies false- 
ly, and therefore lies. That form of reser- 
vation in which the suppressed circumstances 
are things to be taken for granted as known — 
provided they are understood at the time 
to be known, is no real reservation at all. It 
is only where what is suppressed is essential 
to the truth, and is suppressed for the pur- 
pose of deceit, that the reservation comes 
under the censure of the moralist. And 
such frauds cannot be too strongly rebuked. 
They are destructive of all confidence, of all 
intercourse by signs. 



SINCERITY. 



179 



Dr. Paley says that there are two cases in 
which falsehoods are not criminal. The first 
is " where no one is deceived," the second, 
" where the person to whom you speak has 
no right to know the truth, or more properly, 
where little or no inconvenience results from 
the want of confidence in such cases." These 
exceptions are perfectly consistent with the 
theory of moral obligation which confounds 
virtue with expediency and duty with ad- 
vantage. In that, every thing depends upon 
the effect; and where no appreciable injury 
results, or evident utility obtains, it is right 
and proper to prevaricate with any princi- 
ples or to dispense with any laws. But if 
there be such a thing as inherent and essen- 
tial rectitude, if the distinctions betwixt right 
and wrong be permanent and unchanging, 
and if truth be one of the elements of immu- 
table morality, the answer of Paley must be 
condemned by every unsophisticated heart, 

1. In the first class of cases which he 
exempts from the operation of the law of 
sincerity, he has fallen into the unaccountable 



180 



SINCEKITY. 



mistake that the essence of a lie depends 
upon the effect actually produced. He con- 
founds the falsehood with the deception 
which it occasions. The utmost that can 
be said, with any show of reason, is that the 
intention to deceive is necessary to guilt, but 
the intention of the speaker and the effect 
consequent upon it, are very different things. 
The abandoned liar, whose character is 
known to the community, has reached a 
point of degradation at which no one thinks 
of relying upon his word, and yet it would 
be strange philosophy to say that because 
he had become incapable of deceiving, he had, 
therefore, become incapable of lying, except 
by telling the truth. Augustin's definition, 
which is the one commonly adopted, introduces 
the purpose of deceit as all that is necessary 
to render a false signification a lie. Even 
this, as it seems to me, is going beyond what 
the truth of the case admits. The law of 
sincerity requires that a man who addresses 
his discourse to another, should introduce 
liim, as nearly as possible, into the condition 



SINCEKITY. 



181 



of his own mind. He should represent, by 
whatever signs he employs, the precise state 
of his own feelings and convictions. The 
essence of a lie, consequently, must consist 
in a misrepresentation of one's self, or in 
speaking against one's mind. " Speech was 
invented," says Thomas Aquinas, "for the 
purpose of expressing the conceptions of the 
heart ; whenever, therefore, any one utters 
what is not in his heart, he utters what is not 
lawful." The intention, accordingly, which 
determines the species of the lie, and which 
gives it its essential or formal criminality, is 
not the intention to deceive another, though 
that is criminal and is generally the effect of 
falsehood, but the intention to misrepresent 
ourselves. u Where these three things con- 
cur," says Aquinas, " that an enunciation 
should be false, voluntarily made, and in- 
tended to deceive, there is found material 
falsehood, the thing asserted not being true — 
formal falsehood, there being a will to utter 
what is not true — and effective falsehood, 
there being a desire to impress it upon 



182 



SINCERITY. 



others." It must be borne in mind, how- 
ever, that the essence of lying consists in 
formal falsehood, or a voluntary enunciation 
of what is not true ; it derives its name 
from the circumstance that it consists in 
speaking against one's mind. If any one, 
consequently, utters a falsehood, believing it 
to be true, he himself is not guilty of lying, 
though the thing itself be materially false, 
as he had no intention of falsehood. What 
is beside the intention of the speaker cannot 
enter into the specific difference of the act. 
In like manner, if a man should utter a 
truth, believing it to be a lie, he would be 
chargeable with the moral guilt of falsehood, 
that being the purpose of his will, which de- 
termines its character, though accidentally 
it happens to be true. This pertains to the 
species of falsehood. But the purpose to 
mislead another by deception, does not per- 
tain to the species but to the perfection of 
lying. It is falsehood's having its perfect 
work. In natural things, whatever has what 
pertains to the constitution of a species, is 



SINCERITY. 



183 



referred to that species, though some of the 
usual effects may be wanting. A heavy 
body may be suspended in the air, and the 
law of gravity counteracted, yet because the 
descent which gravity is fitted to produce, 
does not take place, it would be absurd to 
deny that the body in question is possessed of 
weight. 

Hence, to determine the question, whether 
a man has lied or not, it is not necessary 
to inquire whether he has actually deceived 
another, but whether he has signified in 
contradiction to the thoughts, feelings or 
convictions of his mind. It is a matter of 
no consequence whether his falsehood has 
been believed or not. The moral character 
of his act does not depend upon his neigh- 
bour's acuteness or simplicity, but upon the 
purpose of his own heart. The intention to 
deceive is, of course, to be presumed, where 
a man voluntarily and consciously misrep- 
resents himself. If the signs which he em- 
ploys are fitted to produce a given impress- 
ion, and he knows that they are so fitted, 



184 



SINCEBITY. 



if the impression in question is one that 
would always be produced where the signs 
are honestly employed, he is to be held 
guilty of designing to make it. But what- 
ever might be the secret purpose of his soul, 
he is a liar before God, if he knowingly and 
willingly utters, or in any other way signifies 
what is false. This is the essence of the sin. 
Other circumstances may aggravate its malig- 
nity, but this determines its specific dif- 
ference. 

2. Dr. Paley is equally unfortunate in 
the principle upon which he exempts his 
second class of cases from the law of sin- 
cerity. The right of another to know the 
truth, is not the ground of my obligation, 
when I speak at all, to speak nothing but 
the truth. It is the ground in many cases, 
of my obligation to speak — that may be 
freely confessed — but, if independently of 
this ground, I choose, upon any other con- 
siderations, to open my lips, the law of 
sincerity must apply to my discourse. The 
absence of the right in question, on the part 



SINCERITY. 



185 



of my neighbour, can operate no farther than 
to justify me in being silent — it exempts me 
from all obligation to signify at all. But it, 
by no means, imparts to me a right to signify 
falsely. The two questions, whether I am 
bound to speak at all in a given case, and 
what I shall speak, are entirely distinct. 
The consideration of my neighbour's right 
may be important in determining the first, 
it is of no importance to the other, except as 
it may affect the extent of my communica- 
tions. It is preposterous and absurd to con- 
found the absence of a right to know the 
truth with the existence of a right to be 
cheated with a lie. The ground of obliga- 
tion to signify nothing but truth, when one 
signifies at all, is that it is truth — it is the law 
under which alone I am at liberty to use 
signs in social intercourse. It might be 
questioned, whether even upon consider- 
ations of expediency, the principle of Dr. 
Paley ought not to be condemned. To say 
that a right to lie is the correlative of the 
absence of a right to know the truth, would 



186 



SINCERITY. 



seem to be equivalent to a very general 
dispensation with the law of sincerity. Each 
man must, in ordinary cases, determine for 
himself, whether the right attaches to his 
neighbour or not, and as his veracity is sus- 
pended upon his opinions in relation to 
this point, no one could ever be sure that 
he was not deceived. How is a man to 
know that his neighbour deems him entitled 
to the truth? From his neighbour's dec- 
laration? But that declaration has no value 
unless it is previously known that the right 
in question is conceded. It may be one of 
those things, about which, in his judgment, 
another has no right to know the truth. 
Hence Paley's law would obviously be the 
destruction of all confidence. How much 
nobler and safer is the doctrine of the Scrip- 
tures, and of the unsophisticated language of 
man's moral constitution, that truth is ob- 
ligatory on its own account, and that he who 
undertakes to signify to another, no matter 
in what form, and no matter what may be 
the right in the. case to know the truth, is 



SINCERITY. 



187 



bound to signify according to the convictions 
of his own mind. He is not always bound 
to speak, but whenever he does speak he 
is solemnly bound to speak nothing but the 
truth. The universal application of this 
principle would be the diffusion of universal 
confidence. It would banish deceit and sus- 
picion from the world, and restrict the use 
of signs to their legitimate offices. 



Jf a i t | f u I u t % s ; 

"Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true — think on 
these things." — Philippians, iv. 8. 

The second branch of practical 

DioO. v.J 

truth, which we have denominat- 
ed Faithfulness, consists in making our ac- 
tions correspond to our professions, in per- 
forming our engagements and fulfilling the 
expectations which we have, by any means, 
knowingly and voluntarily excited. Cicero* 
makes faith the fundamental principle of jus- 
tice, and derives the word in Latin from the 
correspondence it exacts betwixt words and 
deeds. The English term is said to be the 
third person singular of the indicative mood 
of an Anglo-Saxon verb signifying, to engage, 

* Off., i. 1, 23. Fundamentum autem justitiss est fides, id est, 
dictorum conventorumque constantia et Veritas. Ex quo, quara- 
quam hoc videbitur fortasse cuipiam durius, tamen audeamus 
imitari Stoicos, qui studiose exquirunt, unde verba sint dueta 
credamusque, quia fiat, quod dictum est, appellatam fidem. 



FAITHFULNESS. 



189 



to covenant, to contract. The definition, 
however, extracted by Home Tooke from 
this etymology — " that which one covenant- 
ed or engage th" — is obviously inconsistent 
with the usage of the language. Faithfulness 
obtains not in the making, but in the keeping 
of covenants. It is not the saying, but the 
doing of what we have said, that constitutes, 
as Cicero suggests, the very essence of the 
virtue. Quia fiat quod dictum est contains the 
substance of a good definition, whatever may 
be said of the accuracy of the philosophy. 

The engagements of men, to which faith- 
fulness extends, may be embraced under 
the heads of Promises, Pledges, and Yows. 
These three classes, in their relations to each 
other, are an instance of moral climax, and 
furnish a beautiful illustration of the ascend- 
ing scale of moral obligation. The pledge is 
more solemn than the promise, and the vow 
more solemn than the pledge. The peculiar- 
ities which distinguish the pledge and vow 
from an ordinary promise impart an addi- 
tional sacredness to the duty. They are 



190 



FAITHFULNESS. 



species of which it is the genus ; they include, 
consequently, all that it includes and some-' 
thing characteristic of themselves ; and as the 
differences by which they are distinguished 
from it and from each other, involve moral 
elements of the highest importance, there 
must be a corresponding solemnity of obliga- 
tion and a corresponding malignity of guilt in 
case of transgression. The pledge turns upon 
a point of honour, and stakes a man's reputa- 
tion for integrity upon compliance with his 
engagement. As the whole virtue of a female 
is summed up in her chastity, so the whole 
character of the man for probity and upright- 
ness is summed up in the single instance of 
redeeming his pledge. To break a pledge, 
therefore, is not only unjust but disgraceful. 
The vow is of the nature of an oath, it is an 
act of religious worship ; and to disregard it, 
is to be guilty of irreverence to God. There 
is fraud in all breaches of engagement, wheth- 
er of promises, pledges, or vows — that being 
the very essence of unfaithfulness; but to 
break a promise is simply fraudulent, to break 



FAITHFULNESS. 



191 



a pledge is infamous, and to break a vow is 
profane. He who violates a promise tramples 
upon truth and justice, he who violates a 
pledge tramples upon character, and he who 
violates a vow tramples upon God. 

In illustrating the duty of faithfulness I 
shall begin with promises, and restrict myself 
to the two points of their definition and the 
grounds of their obligation. 

I. According to the ordinary acceptation 
of the term, the essence of a promise consists 
in the peculiar mode of signifying, to the ex- 
clusion of all reference to the matter, or thing 
signified. Whenever, by the voluntary use 
of signs, whether verbal or otherwise, we 
knowingly excite expectations in the mind of 
another, whatever may be the nature of the 
things expected, we are said to promise. 
The etymology of the word has, perhaps, con- 
tributed to the currency of this meaning. It 
is a paronym of jpromittere — to send ahead, as 
if the prominent idea were the projection of 
the mind of another into the future. Qui 
pollicentur — says Vossius — verbis aliquem in 



192 



FAITHFULNESS. 



longum mittant, ut qui non tarn faciant quam 
aliquando se facturos recipiant. 

If the definition of a promise is to be re- 
stricted exclusively to the mode of signifying, 
it is manifest that promises are not essential- 
ly obligatory. Whether they shall be bind- 
ing or not is an accidental circumstance. 
There is nothing in themselves, nothing in 
their own nature, considered simply as prom- 
ises, which can give rise to the obligation. 
They may or may not do so, but when they 
do so, it is not because they are promises, but 
because of other considerations. This state- 
ment, though a legitimate deduction from the 
definition in question, and from the loose lan- 
guage of ordinary life, is in open and flagrant 
contradiction to the common feeling of the 
race. There is not a deeper or more pervad- 
ing sentiment than that of the sacredness of 
covenants. The common sense of men is 
always right, though language does not al- 
ways adequately represent it. There is a dis- 
tinction in the signification of words analo- 
gous to that between the spontaneous and re- 



FAITHFULNESS. 



193 



flective processes of reason. A philosopher, 
therefore, should not look to the meaning 
which floats upon the surface, and which a 
term has received from accidental circum- 
stances — he should penetrate into the hearts 
of men and find out the meaning which has 
real emphasis there. That is its true sig- 
nification, and the one to which he should 
restrict it, which, without reflection, finds 
an echo in the soul. In the case before 
us, the associations which are instantly awak- 
ened by the term are all of a solemn and sa- 
cred character. Its primary emphatic refer- 
ence is only to that class of declarations 
which are felt to be obligatory. It has been 
applied to others in consequence of the palpa- 
ble resemblance in form, but this is a reflec- 
tive application which, as it does not repre- 
sent, so it does not disturb, the spontaneous 
feelings which cluster around the word. It 
is still univocal to the heart. If, then, in con- 
formity with the real convictions of mankind, 
nothing can be regarded as strictly and prop- 
erly a promise, which is not essentially obliga- 

9 



194 



FAITHFULNESS. 



tory, the definition must include something 
more than the mode of signifying. It must 
also take account of the matter. As that is 
not to be considered as a deed in law — ■ 
though it may be loosely called so — which 
conveys no right, so that should not be re- 
garded as a promise, in the ethical sense, 
which creates no duty. It may have the 
form, but not the substance, the appearance, 
but not the reality. Those semblances of the 
thing, in which the language of a promise is 
employed, but in which the life of a promise 
is not found, I would call apparent promises, 
while those which create obligation and give 
rise to rights, I would denominate real. Then 
the proposition would be universal, that all 
real promises are binding, and binding pre- 
cisely because they are promises, and all the 
cases in which divines and casuists have held 
them to be void could be explained, at once, 
upon the simple principle, that they are 
not cases of promises at all. They are only 
counterfeit coin. They have the shape, the 
stamp, the appearance of the true currency, 



FAITHF ULNESS. 



195 



but they want the gold. I would, therefore, 
define a real promise, as any form of volunta- 
ry signification which has a known tendency 
to excite an expectation in the mind of an- 
other, in regard to a matter which is possible 
and right. Here the mode of signifying and 
the thing signified, the matter and the form, 
both enter into the specific difference. It is 
not enough that expectations are excited, or 
means employed which are suited to excite 
them, the things expected must be lawful in 
themselves and within the competency of him 
that promises. But we can best vindicate the 
propriety of the definition by a brief examin- 
ation of its parts. 

1. Any mode of voluntary signification, 
ivithout limitation to any particular class of 
signs. This includes tacit as well as express 
promises. It is obviously indifferent by what 
means thought is communicated, the import- 
ant thing is that it be actually done. To re- 
strict promises to words is to make them the 
only language of the mind, to the exclusion 
of actions, gestures, and signs, which may be 



196 



FAITHFULNESS. 



equally made the vehicle of thought and the 
instruments of exciting expectation. 

2. The signification must be voluntary, 
otherwise the promise is not a moral act, and 
cannot be attributed to him who makes it. 

3. Which has a known tendency to ex- 
cite expectation. Paley makes the essence 
of a promise depend on the fact, that ex- 
pectations are excited. This is to resolve 
the cause into the effect. The promise must 
be conceived as existing, before expectations 
can be conceived as produced. The fact of 
their production depends not upon the fact 
that a promise has been made, but that a 
promise has been believed, and faith in the 
author is essential to the reality and obli- 
gation of a promise ; it is not simply his own 
act which binds the agent, but the effect it 
has produced. It would follow, too, that a 
liar could not make a promise because he 
could not create expectation. The promise 
is clearly the. act of the man that makes it, 
and as it comes from him independently of 
any influence upon others, it possesses every 



FAITHFULNESS. 



197 



element that is necessary to a perfect obliga- 
tion. It is indifferent whether it is believed 
or not; all that is important is that if be- 
lieved, it should give rise to expectation — 
it should be a cause suited to produce the 
effect, whether it succeeded in doing so or 
not. The author must knoiv that it has this 
tendency. He must understand the import 
of his signs, or they would not convey the 
thoughts of his mind. The expectations 
which the signs are fitted to excite, will al- 
ways be, with an honest man, the expectation 
he aims to produce. His language will con- 
vey his real meaning. But if he is disposed 
to be dishonest and evasive, he is held re- 
sponsible for the known tendencies of the 
cause which he has put in operation. The 
rule of Paley that a promise is always to be 
interpreted in the sense in which the prom- 
iser apprehended at the time that the prom- 
isee received it, results immediately from 
the definition we have given. 

4. I have ventured to add to the definition, 
in regard to a matter ivhich is possible and 



198 



FAITHFULNESS. 



right These it is universally conceded are 
conditions of the obligation of a promise. 
No man can be bound to do what it is phys- 
ically impossible that he can do, or what 
contradicts the principles of right. It can 
obviously never be his duty to do wrong, 
and just as little can it be his duty to exer- 
cise a power which has never been imparted 
to him. If he was made a man, he can only 
be required to do the work of a man. Now, 
as all the other cases in which promises are not 
binding may be explained by showing that 
they are not promises at all ; that something 
is wanting to complete them, or that they 
have been formally cancelled and annulled; 
as they are confessedly apparent and not real, 
it would contribute to simplify the whole 
subject, by reducing those which are impos- 
sible and unlawful to the same category. 
Any man who will take the trouble to exam- 
ine Paley's enumeration of the cases in which 
promises are void, will see, that with the ex- 
ception of the impossible and unlawful, the 
promise is either defective in form, or has 



FAITHFULNESS. 



199 



ceased to exist. A promise before accept- 
ance, that is, before notice to the promisee, 
is manifestly no promise, because it wants 
the necessary element of signification. It 
is as Paley says, nothing more than a res- 
olution of the mind. Promises released by 
the promisee have just as manifestly ceased 
to exist. The right which was created has 
been relinquished, and the obligation has 
expired with it. Erroneous promises are not 
promises, because their being was contingent 
— it was suspended upon a condition which 
has confessedly failed. If now we make 
possibility and lawfulness essential to the 
being, as they are to the obligation of a 
promise, the proposition would be unlimited, 
that all real promises are binding, and that 
those were only apparent, only shadows and 
semblances, which entailed no obligation of 
performance. These apparent promises 
would then be reduced to two classes, those 
which were defective in form, embracing the 
three last heads of Paley, and those which 



200 



FAITHFULNESS. 



were defective in matter, embracing his 
three first heads. 

II. The next point to be considered is 
the ground of the obligation of promises. 
. The advantages of good faith are so pal- 
pable and manifest, it is so indispensable to 
the very existence of society, that the utilita- 
rian makes out a very plausible case, in re- 
solving the duty of it into considerations of 
expediency. Paley has made the best of the 
argument. He has set in a very clear light, 
not only the importance but the necessity of 
confidence, and then concludes that what 
we cannot do without, we must have sim- 
ply because we cannot do without it. But 
the truth is, its importance depends upon its 
rectitude. Society is the union of moral and 
intelligent beings, and it is because they are 
moral, that virtue is their security and hap- 
piness. It is the law of their nature, and 
of course is the condition of their prosperity 
and well being. 

Without detracting, therefore, in the least 
from what Paley has said upon the utility 



FAITHFULNESS. 



201 



of confidence, we proceed to show that the 
real ground upon which promises are binding 
is, that they involve moral elements which 
are the immediate data of conscience. These 
elements are the principles of truth and jus- 
tice. A man is bound to keep his promise 
from the two-fold consideration that his own 
veracity and the rights of another are at 
stake. 

1. The law of sincerity requires that the 
promiser should signify the purpose pre- 
cisely as it exists in his own mind. He can- 
not mean one thing and say another with- 
out falsehood. But this law requires nothing 
more than the honest expression of present 
intentions. 

2. But the law of truth goes farther, it 
requires that a man's words shall correspond 
to the reality of things. It is not enough, 
in regard to past facts, that a man be hon- 
est and sincere in the declarations which he 
makes, he must have used all diligence to 
guard against deception and mistake. If 

what we have called the remote matter of 

9* 



202 



FAITHFULNESS. 



truth be wanting, he is culpable unless his 
mistake arises from causes beyond his con- 
trol. The same principle holds in regard to 
future facts. The event must correspond 
to our words, unless it can be shown, that 
though we honestly believed that it would 
correspond when we made the declaration, 
it has failed to do so through no fault of ours. 
The language of a promise is absolute and 
assertory, it positively affirms two things ; a 
present intention and the continuance of that 
intention until the thing is done. It declares 
that a thing shall be, and as its existence de- 
pends upon himself, the promiser is bound 
to realize the fact at the appointed time. 
He is bound to make things consistent with 
his words. Hence, he who fails to keep a 
promise, is universally detested as a liar, not 
because he is supposed to have been insin- 
cere at the time of making it, but because 
the thing has not taken place according to 
his word. He is responsible for the want 
of material truth, because it was clearly 
in his power to produce it. 



FAITHFULNESS. 



203 



3. But what particularly enforces the obli- 
gation of a promise is the right, created by 
the expectation it excites, to have it fulfilled. 
It is distinguished from a simple resolution 
in that it does not terminate upon ourselves. 
It extends to another party, and gives him 
a claim of justice which he did not possess 
before. Hence, a breach of promise is not 
only a lie but a fraud.'"" The connection of 
rights with promises is clearly discoverable in 
the case of contracts. There the engage- 
ment is mutual, but the transaction is only a 
reciprocation of promises — no moral elements 
enter into it, which do not enter into every 
other promise. Now there is nothing of 
which the parties to a contract are more dis- 
tinctly conscious, than that they have a right 
to demand from each other the fulfilment of 
their stipulations. It is true that the law rec 

* " We should remember that when we bind ourselves by a 
promise to give any good thing to another, or to do any thing 
lor the benefit of another, the right of the thing promised passes 
over from us to the person to whom the promise is made, as 
much as if we had given him a legal bond, with all the formal- 
ities of signing and sealing ; we have no power to recall or re- 
verse it without his leave." Watts's Sermon on this tpxt. 



204 



FAITHFULNESS. 



ognizes the right only in the case of a val- 
uable consideration. But the design of the 
distinction is to protect men from the conse- 
quences of rash and ill-considered acts. The 
presumption is, that what has been done with- 
out a proper motive, has been done thought- 
lessly and hastily. What shows that this is 
the spirit of the law, is the fact that it al- 
ways presumes a consideration, where the 
promise has been made under such sanctions 
as to imply deliberation. There is no essen- 
tial difference in so far as they are promises, 
and consequently, in so far as moral obliga- 
tion is concerned, between the nudum pac- 
tum of the law and those contracts which 
it undertakes to enforce. The consideration 
is not the source of the right — it is only the 
cause of the promise that gives the right. 
The consideration is a guarantee that the 
man has promised with his eyes open — that 
he knew what he was doing. The law in- 
terposes it as a security to itself that it shall 
not oppress the weak. 

In the case of promises to do unlawful or 



FAITHFULNESS. 



205 



impossible things, there can obviously be no 
right on the part of the promisee to demand 
a fulfilment. It is a contradiction in terms 
that he can have a right to make his neigh- 
bour do wrong, and a flagrant absurdity that 
a creature can exact from his fellow what 
even God cannot enjoin. But while there is 
no injustice in the violation of these promises, 
there is enormous fraud in making them, 
when the unlawfulness and impossibility are 
known at the time. The man shows himself 
reckless of truth and reckless of his neigh- 
bour's right. He manifests a contempt of 
veracity and justice. He is guilty of the 
same species of crime, as he who solemnly 
pretends to transfer the property of another, 
or who knowingly circulates counterfeit coin, 
or who forges a note or a bill of exchange. 
As in other cases the falsehood and fraud con- 
sist in breaking, here they consist in making 
the promise. The crime is the same, but it 
dates from a different point. The same eter- 
nal principles of right which proclaim as with 
a voice of thunder — thou shalt keep all real 



206 FAITHFULNESS. 

promises, — -just as solemnly command, thou 
shalt make no unlawful engagements. In 
cases in which the unlawfulness and impossi- 
bility were not known at the time of mak- 
ing the promise, it may be fairly presumed, 
that the promise was tacitly conditioned by 
them, and though there may be rashness, 
there is nothing of fraud in engagements 
made upon mistake. The implied condition 
has failed and the promise is at an end. 

Before dismissing the subject of promises, 
there are two questions of casuistry which 
deserve a moment's consideration, and which 
may be regarded as a test of the principles 
we have maintained. 

The first is, whether extorted promises 
are binding? The second, whether, when 
a promise proceeds upon an unlawful con- 
dition, and the condition has been fulfilled, 
the promise is to be kept ? That is, whether 
there can ever be a real promise which is 
unlawfully conditioned ? 

1. As to extorted promises, the only point 
to be settled is the subjective condition of 



FAITHFULNESS. 



207 



the agent* Did he voluntarily signify and 
did he know the import of the signs he 
employed? If he was in such a state of 
agitation and alarm, that he could not com- 
mand the use of his faculties; if, in other 
words, he was deprived, for the time, of the 
essential elements of moral agency, he could 
no more be responsible for his acts than 
an idiot or a lunatic. But if he knew what 
he was doing, no violence of fear, no exter- 
nal pressure can exempt him from respon- 
sibility. The act was voluntary, though 
not chosen for itself. The man was in cir- 
cumstances which led him to prefer it as 
the least of two evils. He, therefore, in 
a moral sense deliberately promised, and the 
obligation is the same as in all other cases. 
The true security against being drawn into 
an engagement, which we are subsequently 
reluctant to perform, is that firm reliance 
upon the providence of Grod which enables 
us to look upon danger with contempt, 

* See on this subject, besides the common treatises, Taylor's 
Rule of Conscience, book iv., chap i., rule 7. 



208 



FAITHFULNESS. 



or to regard nothing as a danger which 
does not shake our claim upon the Di- 
vine protection. Let the heart be estab- 
lished by confidence in Him, and then 
there is no ground for the fear of evil 
tidings. The preservation of integrity should 
be superior to all other considerations, and 
it is a miserable confession of weakness, 
that the love of life or limb has been stronger 
than the love of virtue. No Christian man 
should ever be prevailed on by the ser- 
vile motive of fear, to make engagements 
which his sense of propriety condemns. 
Why should he fear who has the arms of 
the Almighty to sustain him ? What shield 
like that of a good conscience and the fa- 
vour of God? Of all men the true Chris- 
tian should exemplify the description of 
the heathen poet : 

Justum ac tenacem propositi virum 
Non civium ardor prava jubeutium, 
Non vultus instantis tyranni 
Mente quatit solida neque Auster 
Dux inquieti turbidus Hadriae, 
Nee fulminantis magna manus Jovis. 
Si fractus illabitur orbis 
Impavidurn ferient ruinse. 



FAITHFULNESS. 



209 



Those circumstances in which cowardice 
yields and puts in the plea of extortion, 
constitute the occasions on which the Chris- 
tian hero may illustrate the magnanimity 
of his principles. Virtue becomes awful 
when it subordinates to itself the whole 
external world. A good man struggling 
with the storms of fate, unshaken in his al- 
legiance to God, and steady in his purpose 
never to be seduced into wrong, is the 
noblest spectacle which the earth can pre- 
sent. There is something unutterably grand 
in the moral attitude of him, who, with his 
eye fixed upon the favour of God, rises su- 
perior to earth and hell, and amid the wrecks 
of a thousand barks around him steers his 
course with steadiness and peace. 

2. To the other question concerning the 
effect of an unlawful condition upon the va- 
lidity of a promise, I am constrained to 
return a very different answer from that 
which has been given by most recent writers 
whom I have been able to consult.* Paley 

* I am gratified in being able to state that Dr. Adams, late 



210 



FAITHFULNESS. 



says, "it is the performance being unlawful, 
and not any unlawfulness in the subject or 
motive of the promise, which destroys its 
validity ; therefore, a bribe after the vote 
is given ; the wages of prostitution ; the re- 
ward of any crime, after the crime is com- 
mitted ; ought, if promised, to be paid. For 
the sin and mischief by this supposition are 
over, and it will be neither more nor less 
for the performance of the promise." u It 
is sometimes made a question," says Dr. 
Whewell,* " supposing such an informal con- 
tract immorally made, whether, when the 
immoral end is answered, it is a duty to per- 
form the rest of the contract ; for instance, if 
a person were elected to an office of public 
trust, on promise of sums of money to the 
electors, whether, after his election, it is 
his duty to pay these sums. We may remark 
that the question here is not, what he is to 
do as an innocent man ; for by the supposition 

President of Charleston College, is an honourable exception. 
See his Moral Philos., p. 210. 

* Elements of Morality, book in., chap. 15, § 386. 



FAITHFULNESS. 



211 



he is a guilty one; having been concerned in 
an immoral bargain. If the question be what 
is he to do as a repentant man, convinced of 
his guilt and wishing henceforth to do what 
is right, the answer is, that he must pay. 
There is no reason why he should add to the 
violation of his absolute duty, the violation 
of his relative duty to the promisees. If in 
his repentance he wishes not to complete an 
immoral transaction, he is to recollect that 
the immoral transaction is completed by his 
election. If he wish to mark his hatred of 
the offense, he may signify his meaning more 
clearly, by expressing his repentance and pay- 
ing the money than by keeping it, which may 
be interpreted as adding avarice and false- 
hood to the violation of public duties." 

Upon these statements I have to remark, 1, 
that Paley's solution is inconsistent with the 
principles of his own philosophy. The effect 
of keeping such promises is to encourage the 
making of them, and upon the doctrine of 
general consequences — the evil of the exam- 
ple, — they ought not to be kept. u The sin 



212 



FAITHFULNESS. 



and mischief" are not over. If it were uni- 
versally felt and acted on, that such engage- 
ments were not binding, there would soon be 
an end to them. It is the very doctrine of 
Paley and Whewell that gives them currency 
in the world. 2. In the next place, Dr. 
Whewell's solution proceeds upon a distinc- 
tion between relative and absolute duties 
which is purely fictitious and arbitrary. He 
affirms that in the case of an immoral promise 
there is an absolute duty to break it. " In all 
such cases, the promiser by his promise has 
rejected his moral nature, and can only re- 
sume it by repudiating his own act." But 
there is a relative duty to the promisee to 
keep it. Now, if I owe a relative duty to the 
promisee, he has a moral claim upon me, in 
the language of Dr. Whewell, in which a 
moral claim is equivalent to an imperfect 
right. There is, consequently, a collision of 
absolute and relative duty. If, therefore, a 
man keeps his promise, he does his duty 
and yet sins, or if he breaks his promise, 
he does his duty and sins. That is, the 



FAITHFULNESS. 



213 



same act is both right and wrong at the 
same time. The absurdity is intolerable, and 
yet it cannot be avoided without repudiat- 
ing the distinction in question. The true 
state of the case is, that the absolute duty 
is the only duty involved, and the effect of 
it is to prevent the rise of the relative duty 
which ensues upon a lawful promise. It is 
the absolute principles of right which deter- 
mine obligation, in the concrete instances of 
life. There never can be a duty, relative or 
absolute, to do a wrong thing. It is a contra- 
diction in terms. No man can ever have a 
claim upon another for a violation of the 
eternal principles of right. As, then, the ex- 
istence of a relative duty depends, in every 
case, upon the lawfulness of the promise, Dr. 
Whewell, instead of resolving the difficulty, 
has quietly begged the question. He has as- 
sumed that there is a relative duty to the 
promisee, when that is the very point in dis- 
pute, and vindicates his assumption by main- 
taining that in all cases of immoral promises 
it exists, though, when the performance is un- 



214 



FAITHFULNESS. 



lawful, the superior importance of the abso- 
lute duty supersedes it. 

3. To me it seems that the true answer is, 
that an unlawful condition renders the prom- 
ise absolutely null and void. That condition, 
in the language of the schools, is no moral en- 
tity — and exnihilo nihil fit is as true in morals 
as physics. The man who stipulated to per- 
form it was confessedly not bound — the other 
party had, and could have, no right or claim 
upon him. His act, therefore, has no moral 
value. The promise and its fulfilment, how- 
ever, are only parts of one and the same pro- 
cess. If now, at the time of making the un- 
lawful stipulation, the maker was not bound 
by it, the other party was equally free from 
obligation in relation to his promise. The 
promiser was bound only upon the supposi- 
tion that the promisee was bound. Now, if the 
making and fulfilment of a promise are parts 
of the same act, and no obligation accrued at 
the time of making, it is clear that none can 
ever subsequently arise. The moral relation 
of the parties undergoes no changes. 



FAITHFULNESS. 



215 



4. It should, further, be recollected, that to 
maintain the validity of such promises is com- 
pletely to reverse the cardinal principle of 
moral government. It is to reward the wicked 
and to punish the righteous. There is some- 
thing inexpressibly revolting in either giving 
or receiving the wages of iniquity. I cannot 
conceive of a position, in which a man more 
openly and flagrantly sets at defiance the 
eternal rule of justice, or more shockingly 
travesties the moral administration of his 
God, than when he dispenses favours to the 
guilty, upon the ground that they are guilty. 
This attitude of bold contradiction to the law 
of the Divine government is enough to brand 
with enormity the doctrine which justifies it. 
He cannot be right who mocks instead of imi- 
tating God. I have no doubt that the moral 
principle which I am here repudiating and 
which is so universally maintained, is the pro- 
lific parent of infamy, outrage, and crime. It 
is a devil whose name is legion. Let it be 
cast out from society, and many a man who 
has been the victim of its power, will be 



216 



FAITHFULNESS. 



found clothed and in his right mind sitting at 
the feet of Jesus. 

One consideration which serves to uphold 
this species of promises, is the apprehension 
that if, when the unlawful condition has been 
performed, the other party should refuse to 
execute his engagements, he will be exposed 
to the imputation of mean and interested mo- 
tives. He would not be likely to receive any 
credit for a high sense of integrity. If he 
was not too conscientious to begin the sin, 
the presumption would be, that it was some- 
thing beside conscience which kept him from 
completing it. This equivocal position is the 
penalty which repentance must pay for the 
crime. It is a grievous cross, but it is a 
cross that must be borne. It is a memorial 
of transgression which serves at once to pro- 
mote severity to ourselves and charity to 
others — a broken limb, or a bone out of joint, 
that keeps one in constant recollection of his 
fall. 

I cannot dismiss this subject of promises 
without alluding to the peculiar interest 



FAITHFULNESS. 



217 



which attaches to it, in the mind of the true 
believer, in consequence of the prominence 
which is given to the promises of God in the 
dispensation of the Gospel. The faithfulness 
of Jehovah is our only hope ; and for the pur- 
pose of alluring our confidence, as well as il- 
lustrating His own grace, He deals with his 
creatures in the way of covenant. He conde- 
scendingly gives them a right, which embold- 
ens their access to the throne of srace. The 
promises, all yea and amen in Christ Jesus, 
are the sure warrant that they shall not be re- 
ceived with coldness nor sent empty away. 
Hardly a blessing is bestowed, which is not 
apprehended in some promise, before it is en- 
joyed in experience. A faithful and cov- 
enant-keeping God ; these are the precious 
titles by which a sinner loves to recognize the 
God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. 
The Gospel is nothing but a great charter of 
promises ; and that man must renounce his 
inheritance in the covenant of grace, and ab- 
jure the hope of everlasting life, who can 

think or speak lightly of what the blessed 
10 



218 



FAITHFULNESS. 



God has sanctified by His own example. In 
reverencing the sacredness of promises, we rev- 
erence Him who is emphatically a God to sin- 
ners, only, when in faith they apprehend His 
covenant. In the preciousness of His prom- 
ises, we have an illustration of the moral 
value of faithfulness, and the fidelity which 
we delight to attribute to Him, we should en- 
deavour to imitate in all our own engage- 
ments. Be ye perfect, even as your Father 
in heaven is perfect. Whatsoever things are 
true, think on these things. 

Pledges. 

Pledges, under the Roman Law, were prop- 
erly securities for the payment of a debt. 
The thing pledged was put into the possess- 
ion of the creditor, with a right to sell it and 
indemnify himself against the loss, in case the 
creditor failed to comply with his contract. 
If, for example, a man borrowed money, and 
deposited his watch or his jewels with the 
lender, in token that he would repay the sum, 
the watch or the jewels became a pledge or 



FAITHFULNESS. 



219 



pawn. In war and among public enemies, 
the security for the faithful execution of a 
treaty, or the performance of any specific stip- 
ulations, was called a hostage. Whatever was 
pledged or pawned was, of course, possessed 
of such value, that the desire to redeem it 
would be likely to be stronger than any in- 
ducements to violate faith. The fundamental 
notion of a pledge, therefore, is that of a 
security ; a protection to the promisee against 
injury or loss. In bargains of sale, or con- 
tracts of debt, the thing pledged was always 
something that the creditor might sell. In 
treaties among hostile armies, hostages were 
usually persons of consequence, whose re- 
demption was of greater importance than any 
incidental advantages that might accrue from 
breach of engagement. In either case, the 
pledge was a distinct, tangible, palpable thing, 
and of such value as to be a real guarantee of 
good faith. Transferred from bargains and 
treaties to a peculiar and solemn form of 
promises, the pledge still retains its funda- 
mental meaning of security, but ceases to be 



220 



FAITHFULNESS. 



a tangible commodity. In these cases it is a 
man's honour which he puts in pawn, as a 
guarantee of the faithful execution of his 
promise. 

The language of a pledge is, I renounce 
all claims to integrity and honour, I am will- 
ing to be excluded from society, to be 
stripped of character, to be an object of con- 
tempt and detestation, if I am found wanting 
in fidelity to my engagements. 

The faith which is pledged under such 
sanctions cannot be violated without aggra- 
vated guilt. Character is not a thing to be 
sported with, infamy and disgrace not 
trifles to be laughed at ; and he who deals 
with honour as a bauble, will experience a 
penalty that may well make him tremble. It 
cannot be too earnestly inculcated upon 
the young, that to break a pledge is apt to 
be followed by the total ruin of one's virtue. 
Trangression is not a transitory thing. The 
single act is soon done and over, but it leaves 
an influence behind which, like the adder's 
poison, may grow and operate and spread 



FAITHFULNESS. 



221 



until it reaches the seat of life, and triumphs 
in the ruin of its victim. No act of the will 
— it is an indestructible and fearful law of 
our being — ever passes away without leaving 
its mark upon the character. There is a 
double tendency in every voluntary deter- 
mination, one to propagate itself, the other to 
weaken or support, according to its own 
moral quality, the general principle of virtue. 
Every sin, therefore, imparts a proclivity to 
other acts of the same sort, and disturbs and 
deranges, at the same time, the whole moral 
constitution ; it tends to the formation of 
special habits and to the superinducing of 
a general debility of principle, which lays a 
man open to defeat from every species of 
temptation. The extent to which a single act 
shall produce this double effect, depends upon 
its intensity, its intensity depends upon the 
fulness and energy of will which will enter 
into it, and the energy of will depends upon 
the strength of the motives resisted. An 
act, therefore, which concludes an earnest 
and protracted conflict, which has not been 



222 



FAITHFULNESS. 



reached without a stormy debate in the soul, 
which marks the victory of evil over the 
love of character, sensibility to shame, the 
authority of conscience and the fear of God, 
an act of this sort concentrates in itself the 
essence of all the single determinations 
which preceded it, and possesses a power to 
generate a habit and to derange the con- 
stitution, equal to that which the whole series 
of resistances to duty, considered as so many 
individual instances of transgression, is fitted 
to impart. By one such act a man is im- 
pelled with an amazing momentum in the 
path of evil. He lives years of sin in a day 
or an hour. It is always a solemn crisis 
when the first step is to be taken in a career 
of guilt, against which nature and educa- 
tion, or any other strong influences protest. 
The results are unspeakably perilous when 
a man has to fight his way into crime. 
The victory creates an epoch in his life. 
He is from that hour, without a miracle of 
grace, a lost man. The earth is strewed with 
wrecks of character which were occasioned 



FAITHFULNESS. 



223 



by one fatal determination at a critical point 
in life, when the will stood face to face with 
duty, and had to make its decision deliber- 
ately and intensely for evil. That act threw 
the whole energy of being into the direc- 
tion of sin. A young man has been trained 
in a righteous horror of gambling ; he looks 
upon cards or dice with shuddering and 
dread. His whole soul is set against them. 
In an ill-omened hour he is tempted to play. 
The associations of childhood, his father's 
counsels, his mother's warnings, a sister's 
love, the convictions of his own judgment, 
the fearful consequences of the crime both 
in this world and that which is to come, 
every moral energy which conscience, relig- 
ion and the love of character can summon, 
rise up to protest against the deed. He is 
staggered, he hesitates, he almost resolves 
to flee the temptation. But a spell is on him, 
the seducer pursues him, the conflict is re- 
newed, he is in agony, and at last resolves in 
desperation and madness to terminate the 



224 



FAITHFULNESS. 



struggle — he plays. From that time his 
character is fixed, the man is ruined. 

To break a pledge is a critical act of the 
same kind. It is an act of concentrated po- 
tency for evil. It is a victory after a severe 
contest, and in the triumph of evil, sensibil- 
ity to shame and tenderness of conscience 
have been paralyzed or lost. The man feels 
that he is disgraced and degraded and gives 
himself up to infamy and vice without a fur- 
ther struggle. Character is gone, and all mo- 
tive for honourable effort has ceased to exist. 
As in the case of the female who has lost her 
chastity, his virtue has perished with his hon- 
our. It is a solemn thing to stake character 
upon the hazard of a single act, and he who 
has done it should feel, that nothing less than 
the whole moral history of his being is in- 
volved in the issue. When the pledge is 
apprehended in its true significancy and re- 
lations, and the natural effects of a breach of 
it according to the fixed principles of human 
nature, are duly appreciated, it will be seen 
to be one of those critical obligations which 



FAITHFULNESS. 



225 



should be approached with somewhat of the 
awful reverence that belongs to the oath. 
It should never be made cheap. It is a secu- 
rity, and should only be resorted to on im- 
portant occasions, where important interests 
are at stake. But once made in regard to a 
matter which is possible and right, a man 
should die rather than forego it. Death is 
tolerable, but real dishonour cannot be borne. 

Sacred as the pledge is, however, it can 
never justify wrong. After what has been 
said upon the subject of promises, to which 
the pledge generically belongs, it would be un- 
necessary to add any thing here, were it not 
that the feelings of the young are apt to mis- 
lead them upon this point, and betray them 
into contradictions, which, always a snare, 
may terminate in permanent injury to char- 
acter. The alternative seems to be dishon- 
our, or an unlawful act. Both are evils; and 
upon the principle of choosing the least, an 
individual instance of transgression is prefer- 
red to a general shock of the moral sensibilities. 

The young man says, I had rather do this par- 
10* 



226 



FAITHFULNESS. 



ticular unlawful act, than sacrifice the whole se- 
curity for good which I find in a delicate re- 
gard for reputation. In this predicament 
students in college are very often involved. 
They enter into combinations against legit- 
imate authority under the sanctions of a 
pledge. They feel that their honour is at 
stake, and that their faith must be redeemed, 
at whatever sacrifice to their own prospects, 
the wishes of their parents, or the prosperity 
of the institution against which they have 
conspired. The feeling, that of the sacredness 
of honour, is a noble one, and should not be 
rudely shocked. But the point is, that true 
honour in this case, requires that the pledge 
should be broken. It was a grievous sin to 
make it, but having been made nothing re- 
mains but the duty, which extends to every 
instance of transgression, of immediate repent- 
ance. The evil must be undone. The man 
who has taken a wrong step, should instantly 
retrace it. There can, in the nature of things, 
be no obligation to persevere. Unlawful 
pledges, like unlawful promises, create no 



FAITHFULNESS. 



227 



rights, and as the attempt to give a security 
for evil only deepens the crime, the pledge 
is only a counterfeit stipulation of honour. 
The principle which would attach dishonour 
to the breach of such unlawful engagements, 
if legitimately carried out, would unhinge the 
entire system of morals. It assumes that 
man can set aside the law of God, that the 
stern prohibitions of eternal rectitude can be 
changed into transient commands by the will 
of a feeble creature, that the word of man 
may become superior to the word of his 
Maker. No, let God be true and every man 
a liar, and when He speaks, let us promptly 
obey, whatever may have been our previous 
engagements to evil. The effects which 
result from the breach of a lawful pledge, and 
which render it so critical, cannot obtain in 
this case. The spirit which here operates is 
the spirit of repentance, the act is an act of 
virtue, and its tendency, consequently, is to 
strengthen the general principle of virtue. 
To keep the pledge, however, as an act 
of transgression, has all the influences which 



228 



FAITHFULNESS. 



essentially inhere in sin. We say, therefore, 
confidently to the young, Be cautious never 
to be entangled in engagements of this sort, 
but if, in an evil hour, you have been seduced 
into them, take the first opportunity of re- 
asserting your allegiance to right. 

There is not a more touching proof of 
God's condescension to the weakness of His 
creatures, than the use of the pledge, on His 
part, to assure our hearts of the immutability 
of His counsel. His promises, though felt to 
be yea and amen in Christ Jesus, appeal to 
considerations less personal and distinct— 
the abstract principle of truth and justice; 
but the pledge is an appeal to His honour, 
or, in the language of Scripture, to His 
glory, which stands in the same relation to 
Him, that honour does to us. We cannot 
disbelieve, without the most revolting blas- 
phemy, when God puts His character in pawn 
for His word. He addresses us on a ground 
which comes home to us with peculiar power. 
He transfers to Himself our regard for reputa- 
tion, and if we instinctively shrink from 



FAITHFULNESS, 



229 



whatever is branded with ignominy and dis- 
grace, how can we imagine that the very 
fountain of purity shall become corrupt, the 
very source of honour defiled. The glory 
of God is an expression that contains the 
most impressive sanction that the imagin- 
ation of man can conceive. When God 
plights His glory, He plights His right 
to the love, homage and adoration of His 
creatures. He plights all claim upon their 
worship, veneration and obedience. He 
virtually engages to abdicate His throne, and 
to be stripped of the prerogatives that be- 
long to Him ; to lose His own self-respect, 
to forfeit forever His name, if He should be 
found unfaithful to His word. What a secu- 
rity to the heirs of the promise ! How can 
we hesitate in committing our souls, our 
interests for time and for eternity, to that 
everlasting covenant which is charged with 
the glory of God ? What broader founda- 
tion could be laid for our faith ? As if it 
were not enough to appeal to us upon the 
eternal principles of truth, and justice, and 



230 



FAITHFULNESS. 



righteousness, as if these were too abstract 
and impalpable to arouse our sympathies and 
wake up a warm and living interest, God 
comes to us in a relation which is pre-em- 
inently personal, and stands before us as one 
who has a name to vindicate, and puts His 
faithfulness on a ground, which in the case 
of a man, a creature like ourselves, we rec- 
ognize as the most sacred and solemn of all 
sanctions. As certainly as God cannot deny 
Himself, as certainly as His own glory is 
the end of all His works, the scope of every 
manifestation of His being, as certainly as 
His own great name is dear to Him, so cer- 
tainly shall every pledge of His love be re- 
deemed. Not one word of all the good 
things He hath spoken, shall ever fall to the 
ground. Heaven and earth may pass away, 
but the word of the Lord abideth forever, 
and this is the word which by the Gospel is 
preached unto us. We cannot sufficiently 
adore that goodness which has stooped to 
our infirmities and illustrated this faithfulness 
by the analogy of principles which address 



FAITHFULNESS. 



231 



themselves with power to every human heart, 
and which shut us up to the alternative of 
faith or the most shocking and abominable 
imputations upon the Divine character. 

I conclude the subject of our engagements 
with our fellow-men with a caution, that 
cannot be too earnestly inculcated upon the 
young, and that is, never by facility of tem- 
per, by reluctance to give offence, or anxiety 
to please, permit themselves to be betrayed 
into expressions naturally fitted to excite ex- 
pectations, when it is not their purpose to 
come under the obligation of a promise. 
" It must be observed," says Dr. Paley, that 
most of those forms of speech which, strictly 
taken, amount to no more than declaration 
of present intention, do yet, in the usual 
way of understanding them, excite the ex- 
pectation, and therefore carry with them the 
force of absolute promises. Such as ' I in- 
tend you this place,' ' I design to leave 
you this estate,' ' I purpose giving you my 
vote,' ' 1 mean to serve you.' In which 
although the 'intention,' the 'purpose,' the 



232 



FAITHFULNESS. 



'design,' the 'meaning' be expressed in 
words of the present time, yet you cannot 
afterwards recede from them without a 
breach of good faith. If you choose, there- 
fore, to make known your present intention, 
and yet to reserve to yourself the liberty of 
changing it, you must guard your express- 
ions by an additional clause, as ' I intend at 
present,' ' if I do not alter,' or the like. 
And after all, as there can be no reason for 
communicating your intention, but to excite 
some degree of expectation or other, a wan- 
ton change of an intention which is once dis- 
closed, always disappoints somebody, and is 
always for that reason wrong. There is in 
some men an infirmity with regard to prom- 
ises, which often betrays them into great dis- 
tress. From the confusion, or hesitation, or 
obscurity with which they express themselves, 
especially when overawed, or taken by sur- 
prise, they sometimes encourage expectations, 
and bring upon themselves demands which 
possibly, they never dreamed of. This is a 



FAITHFULNESS. 



233 



want not so much of integrity as of presence 
of mind." 

A man's character suffers in the eyes of 
others, his self-respect is diminished in his 
own, when he finds himself ensnared into 
reputed obligations to which he has weak- 
ly or foolishly given rise. His ingenuous- 
ness and candour are brought under a cloud, 
and however he may vindicate his name, 
he cannot but feel that he has put a weapon 
into the hands of malice. u He that in- 
tends," says Jeremy Taylor, u to do himself 
honour must take care that he be not sus- 
pected; that he give no occasion of re- 
proachful language ; for fame and honour 
is a nice thing, tender as a woman's chas- 
tity, or like the face of the purest mirror, 
which a foul breath or an unwholesome air, 
or a watery eye can sully, and the beauty is 
lost, though it be not dashed in pieces. 
When a man, or a sect is put to answer for 
themselves in the matter of reputation, they, 
with their distinctions, wipe the glass, and 
at last can do nothing but make it appear 



234 



FAITHFULNESS. 



it was not broken ; but their very abstersion 
and laborious excuses confess it was foul and 
faulty." 

There is but one way of avoiding these 
painful predicaments, and that is by putting 
a bridle upon our lips. He that offends 
not in word is a perfect man. Speech is 
a sacred prerogative, the tongue rules the 
world, and we should see to it that our hearts 
rule it. Let us weigh the import of what 
we utter, speak with the deliberation of ra- 
tional and accountable beings, speak accord- 
ing to our real purposes and thoughts, and 
we shall be saved the mortification and the 
shame of even an appearance of failure in 
good faith. It is an awkward thing and 
humbling to a good man, to have to defend 
himself from the imputation of perfidy, 
when malice can give any colour to the 
charge. As to suspect a servant is to corrupt 
him, so calumny often drives men to crime. 
They resent the injustice of mankind by be- 
coming what they have been falsely rep- 
resented to be. They take reprisals on soci- 



FAITHFULNESS. 235 

ety by practising the vices of which they 
have experienced the shame without the guilt. 
Let the young, then, guard with jealous care 
the sanctity of their faith. Let them avoid 
even the appearance of evil. Let them even 
suffer wrong rather than give the least oc- 
casion of being suspected of falsehood, du- 
plicity, or fraud. If Achilles, who had Chiron 
for his master, could exult in the ingen- 
uous simplicity of his character, how should 
he who has had the Son of God for his 
teacher and example, be clothed with truth 
as with a garment? 

The evil of being seduced into engage- 
ments contrary to our purpose, is not to be 
compared with that of being ensnared into 
those that are unlawful. To make a promise 
or pledge with the consciousness that the 
matter of it is wrong, is a most deliberate 
compact with the devil ; it is selling one's self 
to evil. He that does so either intends to 
keep his word, or he does not. If he intends 
to keep it, he actually makes evil his good and 
approximates as closely as his circumstances 



236 



FAITHFULNESS. 



will allow, to the father of lies, who never 
speaks truth, except when it redeems his en- 
gagements to sin. If he does not intend to 
keep it, he is guilty of deliberate fraud. In 
either view, the making of an unlawful prom- 
ise, knowingly and voluntarily, is an aggra- 
vated crime. Few, it is to be hoped, ever 
reach this pitch of wickedness. But to make 
an unlawful promise, unconsciously, is not 
without sin. It is always rash ; and though it 
is not obligatory, it places a man, when the 
unlawfulness is discovered, in a very painful 
situation. It is apt to diminish his sensibility 
to moral distinctions — to superinduce a soph- 
istry which corrupts the heart and darkens the 
understanding. The very anxiety to exempt 
himself from censure will tempt him to prevar- 
icate with duty, and the effort to acquit the 
criminal may terminate in a justification of 
the crime. To come in close contact with 
vice is always dangerous. 

" Seen too oft, familiar with its face. 
We first endure, then pity, then embrace." 

To apologize for sin is the next step to the 



FAITHFULNESS. 



237 



commission of it ; and to apologize for it all 
those will be tempted to do who have been 
entangled in unlawful engagements. Let 
all men, but particularly the young, guard 
against them with a holy solicitude. Resolve 
never to make a promise without having well 
weighed the moral character of its matter. 

Never let a formula, implying obligation, 
pass your lips unless you are sure that it re- 
lates to nothing which is inconsistent with 
your duty to God or man. Whatever is 
not of faith is sin, and he that doubteth is 
damned. In every undertaking, our first care 
should be to have a clear conscience. Recti- 
tude is a sacred, an awful thing, and as its 
eternal laws should never be despised by 
open and deliberate transgression, so the very 
possibility of invading them by rashness and 
imprudence should fill us with constant vigil- 
ance and unceasing caution. " Ignorance of 
duty," says Jeremy Taylor, "is always a sin, 
and therefore, when we are in a perceived 
discernible state of danger, he that refuses to 
inquire after his duty, does not desire to do 



238 



FAITHFULNESS. 



it." u We enter upon danger and despise our 
own safety, and are careless of our duty, and 
not zealous for God, nor yet subjects of con- 
science, or of the Spirit of God, if we do not 
well inquire of an action we are to do, wheth- 
er it be good or bad." 

To him, however, who has been rashly en- 
snared I would solemnly say — do not hesitate 
to repent of your engagement, and to nip the 
action in the bud. You have sinned already. 
Do not double the offence by the perpetration 
of the deed. Let no fear of reproach, no 
sense of self-degradation, induce you to par- 
ley with the crime. You have come too near 
it already. Your only safety is in instant re- 
treat. If you have betrothed yourself to a 
harlot, under the impression that she was a 
virgin, flee her poisoned embraces as soon as 
you find out her pollution. Never, never for 
an instant think of excusing or extenuating a 
wrong, because you have been implicated in 
it. The moment you begin to debate you 
have soiled the purity of your conscience. 



9 a to s . 



tk Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true — think on 
these things." — Philippics, iv. 8. 

There is a marked difference 
between Protestant and Rom- 
ish communions in their estimate of the 
value and importance of vows as an element 
of religious worship. The Church of Home 
has perverted and Protestants have neglected 
them. The will-worship and superstition 
fostered by the one have produced a re-ac- 
tion to the opposite extreme in the other. 
In this, as in most other cases, the truth lies 
in moderation. It is obvious to remark that 
this species of devotion has entered into all 
religions, whether Pagan, Jewish, or Chris- 
tian. Wherever God and Providence have 
been acknowledged, there, too, have been 
acknowledged the sanctity of oaths, and the 



240 



vows. 



piety of vows. A form of worship so uni- 
versal must be founded in nature, and how- 
ever it may have been corrupted by the mix- 
ture of false doctrines, or perverted by igno- 
rance and superstition, there must be some- 
thing in it which is consistent with reason, 
and which should be reclaimed from prosti- 
tution and restored to its right place among 
the functions of the religious life. I have no 
doubt that, as in the Church of Rome, the 
extravagant commendation of supererogato- 
ry works, which are productive of nothing 
but pain to the flesh, and vanity and pride 
to the spirit, has detracted from the weight- 
ier matters of the law, and degraded piety 
from obedience to God to the punctilious 
observance of the uncommanded devices of 
men ; while the doctrine of vows in its con- 
nection with u a show of wisdom in will- 
worship and humility, and neglecting of 
the body," has practically destroyed, in many 
instances, all real piety of life ; among Pro- 
testants, on the other hand, the general inat- 
tention to the principle which has made the 



V o w s . 



241 



vow as universal as the oath, has prevented 
many from apprehending, in any thing like 
their true sacredness and interest, the peculiar 
obligations of religion. Johnson's horrour 
of a vow is well known. He looked upon 
it as nothing but a snare to the conscience, 
and had almost said that he who could not 
get to heaven without one, deserved not to 
go there at all. 

I have thought, therefore, that it would 
not be amiss to devote a little more attention 
to this subject than it has usually received 
from the Protestant Pulpit, and have col- 
lected my thoughts under the heads of the 
nature, uses, and obligation of vows. 

1. First, then, a vow is of the general 
nature of a promise. The schoolmen have 
discussed the question whether it consists es- 
sentially in a mere purpose of the will, or 
whether the act of reason which, in other 
instances, transmutes a resolution into a 
promise and gives it its binding force, must 
here also be superinduced. The definition 

which confounds it with a deliberate and firm 

11 



242 



vows. 



resolution, making a mere conceptio boni 
propositi cum animi deliberations firmata, 
qua quis ad aliquid faciendum, vel non fa~ 
ciendum se Deo obligat, proceeds on the as- 
sumption, that the only importance of signi- 
fication in ordinary promises is to make 
known the thoughts and intent of the heart 
— that if men could read the purposes of 
each other as they are secretly formed in 
the mind, these purposes would instantly 
create obligations and impart rights. But 
this is obviously a mistake ; there is a broad 
distinction betwixt a purpose and a promise. 
The promise is the child of the purpose, 
but there must be a father to beget it. 
There must be something added to the pur- 
pose before it can bind as an engagement. 
The intervening act by which a purpose is 
changed is an ordination of the reason by 
which the purpose is voluntarily made the 
rule or law of a future thing to be done by 
ourselves. The promise sustains the same 
relation to our own future acts, which a com- 
mand or order bears to the acts of a servant. 



V ows. 



243 



The constituting of this relation is essential 
to obligation ; it is explicitly enounced by 
signification in promises among men — it is 
enough that it exists in promises to God. 
This act or ordination of reason is simply the 
voluntary determination to be considered as 
bound, voluntas se obligandi. Where this 
does not obtain either explicitly or implicitly, 
a resolution terminates upon ourselves, and 
carries no other duty along with it than what 
is essentially involved in the matter of it. 
Where it is not signified there is no promise ; 
where it does not exist, no vow.* 

2. What distinguishes the vow from every 
other promise is the party to whom it is 
made — God. By virtue of this relation it 
becomes an act of religious worship, and par- 
takes, at the same time, of the nature of an 
oath. He takes a very limited view of what 
constitutes the worship of God, who restricts 
it exclusively to those exercises of prayer, 
praise, or thanksgiving, which are specifically 
religious. Our whole life should be one 

* Aquinas' Summa. 2. 2. quest. 88, art. 1. 



244 



vows. 



great instance of devotion. It is the end, 
the intention, or, as the Schoolmen phrase it, 
the ordination of it, which determines the 
character of an act ; and if in all that we 
do, we aim at the glory of God, u every 
action of nature becomes religious," every 
meal an instrument of piety, every office of 
ordinary life a holy oblation. It is the spirit 
and temper of the soul which settles the 
question of worship. A cup of cold water 
given to a disciple in the name of a disci- 
ple is not simply charity, it is an offering ac- 
ceptable to God. As m the vow the ordi- 
nation of the action is to God, whatever may 
be the nature of the thing to be done, wheth- 
er natural, civil, or spiritual, the action be- 
comes religious. It takes its denomination 
from its end. The writers of the Romish 
Church make it an act of the highest relig- 
ious worship, an act of latria, and are accord- 
ingly at one with Protestants in affirming, 
that vows can be lawfully made to God only. 
This, beyond all controversy, is the doctrine 
of the Scriptures. Hence the indignation of 



vows. 



245 



the Lord against the children of Israel for 
making vows to the Queen of Heaven. The 
crime was idolatry. 

But a vow is also of the nature of an 
oath. Although primarily it respects God 
simply as the party to whom a promise is 
made, yet secondarily, in consequence of 
His relations to the creature, it must also 
regard Him as a witness and a judge. The 
oath is a solemn invocation of God, in which 
His name is made the guarantee of the 
truth of what we say, or in case of false- 
hood, in which we deliberately abjure His fa- 
vour. We suspend our claims to the Di- 
vine protection upon our veracity. The pe- 
culiarity of its sanction is the reverence for 
the Divine Being upon which all its sacred- 
ness depends. Its peculiar guilt consists in 
taking the name of the Lord our God in 
vain. All this is obviously implied in the 
vow ; and hence it may be compendiously 
defined as a promissory oath, using that 
phrase, not in its common acceptation as a 
promise, to which men are the parties, con- 



246 



vows. 



firmed by an oath, but as a promise which 
is at the same time an oath. The Jews, 
accordingly, were accustomed to couple im- 
precations with their vows ; the Psalmist re- 
peatedly employs terms of swearing and vow- 
ing as synonymous expressions. 

The circumstance that it is God with 
whom we have to deal in the vow, deter- 
mines at once the nature of its matter, and 
the spirit or temper in which it should be 
made. 1. Without entering into the frivo- 
lous discussions of the Schoolmen de bono 
melwrt, which they made essential to the va- 
lidity of vows, it is obvious that nothing can 
legitimately constitute the matter of our en- 
gagements which is inconsistent with rever- 
ence for His name, forbidden by His word, 
hurtful to our virtue, or beyond our strength 
of nature or of grace. Such oblations, instead 
of being worship, are a mockery. I would 
not say, the common doctrine of the schools,* 

* Vota vero quae sunt de rebus vanis et inutilibus, sunt magis 
deridenda quam servanda. Aquinas Sum. 2. 2. quest. 88, art. 2. 
Sanderson in his little treatise de Juramento, takes the view 
which is adopted in the text. 



vows. 



247 



that light and frivolous promises, provided 
they respected things that were not essen- 
tially unlawful, are absolutely null, — they, no 
doubt, bind the conscience; but I will say 
that they argue a contempt of God, and 
that it is utterly unlawful to make them. 
To call His awful name upon actions that 
are silly and ridiculous, that neither in them- 
selves nor their tendencies, have a moral 
significancy, is a crime of impiety and pro- 
fan eness which is even as the sin of perjury. 
What can be his conception of God, who 
approaches the terrible majesty with absurd 
promises to walk with pebbles in his shoes, 
to stand for a given time upon a single 
foot, to lie in a particular posture, or to eat 
with a particular implement, and imagines 
that these worse than childish follies are ac- 
cepted as proofs of extraordinary piety. 
Yerily their foolish heart is darkened, and 
they have changed the glory of the incor- 
ruptible God into the image of a child, 
"pleased with a rattle and tickled with a 
straw." 



248 



vows. 



To guard against profaneness in making 
vows, let the following cautions in relation to 
the matter be observed : 

1. If they respect an act which is specific- 
ally religious, which is directly and immedi- 
ately and not merely by virtue of the inten- 
tion, an act of worship, let it be well settled 
that it is appointed in the Word of God. As 
it is the prerogative of the monarch to ordain 
the ceremonial of his court, so it belongs ex- 
clusively to God to determine by what ex- 
ternal observances His holy name shall be 
honoured. Nothing is more offensive or in- 
sulting than will-worship. He takes such 
pleasure in obedience "that he pronounces a 
curse," says Calvin,* " on all acts of will-wor- 
ship, however specious and splendid they 
may be in the eyes of men. If God abomi- 
nates all voluntary services invented by us, 
without his command, it follows, that nothing 
can be acceptable to Him, except what is ap- 
pointed by His word. Let us not, therefore, 
assume to ourselves such a great liberty, as to 

* Institutes. Book iv. chap. 13. 



V o ws. 



249 



presume to vow to God any thing, that has no 
testimony of His approbation." In vain do 
they worship me, teaching for doctrines, the 
commandments of men. 

2. In the next place, if the vow respects 
any other act, let us be certain that the act is 
either the elicit or imperate one of some vir- 
tue — that is — that it consists in doing some- 
thing positively commanded, or avoiding 
something positively forbidden, or in making 
that which is naturally indifferent conduce to 
our improvement. There can be no doubt 
about the lawfulness of engagements to per- 
form our duty, or to abstain from sin. AH 
elicit acts of virtue are clearly within the 
scope of a vow. But the case is not as plain 
when it comes to the curtailment of Christian 
liberty. That should not be done except to 
save ourselves from temptation, or others 
from offence. When an indifferent thing, by 
being specially sanctified to God, can promote 
my own piety, or the piety of others, it seems 
to me that it can legitimately constitute the 

matter of a vow. Liberty is then used for 

11* 



250 



vows. 



the glory of God, and the use of it is mani- 
festly consistent with His will. In the lan- 
guage of the Schools, it becomes a great- 
er good. This is the doctrine of Thomas 
Aquinas.* ''Maceration of one's own body," 
says he, " by vigils and fasts, for example, is 
not accepted of God, except in so far as it is 
a work of virtue — that is, in so far as it is 
done with proper discretion for the purpose of 
restraining concupiscence without too much 
inconvenience to nature." The same is the 
doctrine of Calvin. "If a person," says he, 
" has fallen into any crime through the vice 
of intemperance, nothing prevents him from 
correcting that vice by a temporary renuncia- 
tion of all delicacies, and enforcing this ab- 
stinence by a vow, to lay himself under the 
stronger obligation." " Yet," he adds, " I 
impose no perpetual law on those who have 
been guilty of such an offence : I only point 
out what they are at liberty to do, if they 

* Summa, 2, 2, Quest. 88. Art. 2. See, also, Bishop Hall. 
Cases of Conscience. Decade iii., case 4. Bishop Reynolds on 
Hosea. 



vows. 



251 



think that such a vow would be useful to 
them. I consider a vow of this kind, there- 
fore, as lawful, but, at the same time, left to 
the free choice of every individual." 

3. The matter of a vow should, further, be 
something clearly in our own power, either 
according to the strength of nature, or the 
promises of grace. In the case of command- 
ed duties, or prohibited sins, we can throw 
ourselves upon the everlasting covenant, and 
should make all our engagements in humble 
reliance upon its provisions. But in uncom- 
manded instances, we should measure our 
ability before we venture to assume so solemn 
an obligation. The aids of grace will be im- 
parted, only in so far as may be conducive to 
God's glory ; and as the circumstances which 
to-day justify a particular use of liberty may 
change to-morrow, no man can contract any 
permanent obligations, in regard to these 
things, in dependence upon God's help. He 
has no promise to justify such faith. Vows 
of this class, therefore, should always be 
temporary ; otherwise they become a tempta- 



252 



vows. 



tion and a snare. To illustrate my meaning, 
there may be a conjuncture of circumstances 
which render it highly inexpedient at one 
time for a man to marry. It may, subse- 
quently, by a change in his condition, be as 
evidently his duty to do so. If, now, he had 
contracted a vow of perpetual celibacy, he 
has engaged to clo what he is not sure that he 
shall have strength to perform, and what God 
has nowhere promised to enable him to do. 
The Lord has commanded chastity, and all 
His people may rely upon His grace to pre- 
serve them from uncleanness. But chastity is 
not virginity ; the wife is as pure as the virgin 
— the husband as chaste as the eunuch. We 
dare not, therefore, pledge ourselves to per- 
petual continence, when it may be that God 
designs to protect our purity by the holy 
estate of wedlock. This is the class of vows 
which entangle the conscience — those which 
relate to matters of indifference, that only par- 
take of the character of virtue in the way of 
accident. Hence the advice of Taylor, u Let 
not young beginners in religion enlarge their 



vows. 



253 



hearts and straiten their liberty by vows of 
long continuance ; nor indeed can any one 
else without a great experience of himself, 
and of all accidental dangers. Vows of single 
actions are safest, and proportionable to those 
single blessings, ever begged in such cases of 
sudden and transient importunities." 

The matter of one class of vows is the con- 
secration of a person or thing to the service 
and glory of God. The thing to be done 
is the renunciation of all rights of property 
on our part and the devotion of the object, 
whatever it may be, to the service and glory 
of God. Such was Hannah's vow. u And 
she vowed a vow and said, Oh Lord of Hosts, 
if thou wilt indeed look on the affliction of 
thine handmaid, and remember me and not 
forget thine handmaid, and will give unto 
thine handmaid a man child, then will I give 
him unto the Lord all the days of his life, and 
there shall no razor come upon his head." 
Such also was Jacob's vow — he consecrated 
the stone and the tithes to the Lord. " And 
Jacob vowed a vow, saying, if God will be 



254 



vows. 



with me and keep me in the way that I go, 
and will give me bread to eat and raiment to 
put on, so that I come again to my father's 
house in peace, then shall the Lord be my 
God, and this stone which I have set for a 
pillar shall be God's house, and of all that 
thou shalt give me, I will surely give the 
tenth unto thee." These are what Calvin 
calls vows of thanksgiving. He finds u other 
examples of them in the ancient peace-offer- 
ings, which used to be vowed by pious kings 
and generals entering on just w^ars, to be of- 
fered in case they should obtain the victory ; 
or by persons labouring under more than 
common difficulties, in case the Lord would 
deliver them. Thus we are to understand all 
those places in the Psalms which speak of 
vows. Vows of this kind may also be now 
used among us, whenever God delivers us 
from any great calamity, from a severe dis- 
ease, or from any other danger. For on such 
occasions it is not inconsistent with the duty 
of a pious man to consecrate to God some 
oblation that he has vowed, merely as a 



vows. 



255 



solemn token of grateful acknowledgement, 
that he may not appear unthankful for his 
goodness." Such, it may be added, is the 
vow implied in the very nature of the Chris- 
tian profession. A man yields himself to God 
a living sacrifice — lie is sanctified to the di- 
vine service and glory, renounces all right of 
property in himself, and dedicates his faculties 
and members as instruments of righteousness 
unto holiness. Such also is a good man's con- 
secration of his children to the Lord ; they are 
devoted — and he feels that he has no more 
right to train them for merely secular ends, 
than an ancient Jew had to use the vessels of 
the sanctuary for the ordinary purposes of 
life. It is nothing less than sacrilege to treat 
them in any other way than as holy to the 
Lord. The vow of personal consecration 
made in baptism, is repeated in every recep- 
tion of the Lord's Supper. The sacraments 
are seals of a covenant by which God certifies 
His promises to us, and by which we solemn- 
ly pledge an absolute allegiance to Him. 
Every Christian man, therefore, can justly ap- 



256 



vows. 



propriate the language of David with all the 
comfort and consolation it imparts, u thy 
vows are upon me, Oh God," and with the 
Apostle he rejoices that he is not his own, but 
is bought with a price. 

II. Having sufficiently indicated the nature 
of vows, I proceed to the question of their 
use. Is it, or is not expedient to make them ? 
Of course the discussion must be confined 
to those which are lawful and proper, which 
are consistent with the will of God, not rashly 
made nor disproportioned to our powers. 

There is but little force in the objections, 
in so far as such vows are concerned, that 
they curtail our liberty, multiply temptations, 
and are without warrant from the example of 
Christ and His Apostles. There is no abridg- 
ment of liberty in strengthening the bonds 
of duty, no necessary peril in what nothing 
but depravity can convert into an instrument 
of sin, and no reflection upon Christ, whose 
whole life was a vow, nor upon the Apostles, 
who were body and soul devoted to the 
work of the Lord. That is not freedom 



vows. 



257 



which absolves from obligation, that is not a 
snare which is only made so by our volun- 
tary neglect, and that is not unchristian, 
which aims at the perfection of Christian life. 
The truth is, the whole question concerning 
the utility of vows turns upon the spirit and 
temper in which they are made. They have 
no absolute efficacy in themselves ; there is 
no charm by which the mere making of them 
shall be an instrument of good. All depends 
upon the state of mind, the purpose and ends 
with which they are made. Here, as in every 
thing else, the maxim of the Apostle holds 
good, whatsoever is not of faith is sin. 

1. If vows are made in the spirit of bribes, 
if they proceed from low and degrading 
thoughts of the God-head, and are presented 
as inducements which have an intrinsic value 
in the court of Heaven, they are insults to 
Him and injuries to us. God maintains no 
intercourse of barter and traffic with His 
creatures, and those who look upon His cov- 
enants as the interchange of reciprocal ben- 
efits, are puffed up with pride, and have al- 



258 



vows. 



ready fallen into the condemnation of the 
Devil. All things come of Him and it is 
only of His own that we can give Him. 

2. In the next place, those who look upon 
vows as instances of extraordinary merit, 
eviscerate them of all their tendencies to 
good. There is no righteousness but in obe- 
dience to God, and as the vow is only an ac- 
knowledgement of duty, coupled with a fixed 
resolution to perform it, there is nothing 
more in it than the honesty of a debtor, who 
admits the debt and makes arrangements to 
discharge it. So far are those vows which re- 
spect uncommanded instances from possess- 
ing extraordinary merit, that the sole merit 
or moral excellence which belongs to them 
is derivative and secondary, it springs from 
their relation to commanded duties. They 
are the merest puerilities except as they are 
ordained to the ends of virtue. They become 
lawful only when they are assumed as the in- 
struments or means of enforcing prime obli- 
gations. They are like the ancient phylac- 
teries, memorials of duty rather than duties 



vows. 



259 



themselves. To treat them, therefore, as 
proofs of extraordinary righteousness, is to 
reverse the relation of means and end, and to 
substitute the sign for the thing signified. 
He that enters into engagements of this sort, 
with the secret feeling that he is pleasing 
the Lord of Hosts with the display of un- 
wonted zeal, may expect the confounding 
rebuke that " obedience is better than sac- 
rifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams." 
It is the preposterous notion that there is 
something more than God requires, a 
righteousness of supererogation, in these in- 
stances of vows, that has corrupted the 
whole subject, and made it stink in the nos- 
trils of humble piety. This dead fly has pol- 
luted the whole box of ointment. The Di- 
vine law is the standard of moral perfection, 
and nothing is good which does not express 
the spirit and temper of this perfect standard. 
There is no going beyond it ; there may be 
a fearful falling short of it. Whatever expe- 
dients we employ to impress this law upon 
the conscience and to engrave it in the very 



260 



vows. 



texture of the will, they are good or other- 
wise, according to their tendencies to secure 
the result. The man is righteous or un- 
righteous, holy or sinful, according as his 
heart is in union and sympathy with the 
holy commandment. The effect of exalting 
supererogatory observances above simple obe- 
dience, and treating him pre-eminently as a 
saint, whatever may be the general temper 
and disposition of his mind, who excels in as- 
cetic devotions, has been to degrade religion 
from its noble eminence as a reasonable ser- 
vice to the emptiest show of fooleries. Vows 
conceived in such a spirit are as fatal to pros- 
perity as the mildew or pestilence. They 
are a high conspiracy against heaven, an im- 
pious and daring attempt to reverse the 
order which God has established, and to 
make His will subordinate and secondary 
to the little contrivances of man. It is 
to subvert morality and to convert religion 
into superstition. Hence, Taylor in his Holy 
Living, in order to obviate this tendency to 
pervert the vow into will-worship, has very 



V ows. 



261 



reasonably advised, "that every vow of a 
new action be also accompanied with a new 
degree and enforcement of our essential and 
unalterable duty. Such was Jacob's vow, that 
(besides the payment of a tithe) God should 
be his God, that so he might strengthen his 
duty to Him, first in essentials and precepts, 
and then in additionals and accidentals. For 
it is but an ill tree that spends more in leaves 
and suckers and gums than in fruit ; and that 
thankfulness and religion is best that first 
secures duty and then enlarges in counsels." 

3. Vows that are made in conformity with 
the spirit of the Gospel, with proper views of 
the majesty and goodness of God and of 
the weakness and ill-desert of man, made in 
faith and as the honest expressions of sincere 
worship, are undoubted helps to piety. These 
are not the vows which become hinderances 
and snares. 

1. In the first place, they obviously 
strengthen the general bonds of duty. They 
consecrate the offices of life. They dif- 
fuse the influence and savour of the Di- 



262 



vows. 



vine name around moral and civil observ- 
ances, and attach the sacredness of religion to 
every thing which they touch. The vow in- 
troduces a new sanction, and the sanction 
which of all others is dearest to the Chris- 
tian heart, reverence for the glory of God. 
It pronounces the Divine name, and makes 
that to be specifically religious which before 
was only natural or civil, and thus superin- 
duces what Augustin calls a " blessed neces- 
sity to good." It confirms the will by a direct 
sense of the majesty and holiness of God. 
It is, indeed, the general spirit of religion 
concentrated on a single act. As the pe- 
culiar motive of the vow is reverence for 
God, it is manifest that every instance of 
fidelity strengthens the principle until it is 
matured into the stability of habit. 

2. In the next place, vows are conducive 
to piety by increasing the sense of union with 
God. They keep alive the consciousness that 
we are His, and that He is ours. David, 
when overwhelmed by afflictions and op- 
pressed by dangers, often established his 



vows. 



263 



heart with the reflection that the vows of his 
God were upon him. The feeling was that 
God had a peculiar interest in him as one 
devoted to His service, and that the Deity 
was not likely to abandon His own property 
as a spoil to men of violence and blood. 
We keep aloof from the throne of grace 
when we distrust our right to be found 
there ; nearness of access is in proportion to 
the feeling of intimacy betwixt God and the 
creature. It is precisely this feeling which 
the vow cherishes. This is eminently the 
case with that general vow of consecration, 
which is involved in the very notion of the 
Christian profession ; its language is, my be- 
loved is mine and I am his. We know that 
God careth for His own, and in proportion 
as we cherish the conviction that we belong 
to Him, will be the frequency of our ap- 
proaches to His seat, and the strength of our 
reliance on His name. It is the prerogative 
of faith to appropriate God and the promises 
of the covenant ; and whatever has a ten- 
dency to increase the feeling of propriety, re- 



264 



vows. 



acts upon faith and strengthens that very fea- 
ture of it, by which it is made the instrument 
at once of comfort and of growth in grace. 
There is no privilege, no exaltation of bless- 
edness comparable with that, by which a sin- 
ner is permitted to avouch the Lord to be 
his God. Every thing of good, whether for 
this world, or that which is to come, is em- 
braced in the compendious declaration, I will 
be a God to thee and to thy seed after thee. 
The vow corresponds to this promise, and 
presents the man as an oblation to the Lord, 
holy and acceptable through Jesus Christ. 
It is an exercise of faith which strengthens 
faith. 

3. In the third place, vows in exercising 
specific virtues contribute to the habit of 
them, and through the intimate connection 
which obtains among them, fortifies the gen- 
eral principle of integrity. Calvin recog- 
nises four ends to which our vows may be 
rightly directed, two referring to the past 
and two to the future. u To the time past 
belong those vows by which we either testify 



vows. 



265 



our gratitude to God for benefits received, or 
in order to deprecate His wrath, inflict pun- 
ishment upon ourselves for sins we have com- 
mitted. The former may be called vows of 
thanksgiving ; the latter vows of penitence." 
The vows which he refers to the future 
u have for their object, partly to render us 
more cautious of danger, partly to stimulate 
us to the performance of duty." It cannot 
be denied that whatever strengthens the sen- 
timent of gratitude, or reminds us of our own 
guilt and unworthiness, whatever guards us 
against future temptations or arms us for fu- 
ture conflict, is of no mean utility to the Di- 
vine life. The stronger the tie which binds 
us to God and duty the better. If a man 
honestly aims at the Divine glory, and his 
own spiritual improvement, if his heart is 
right, the solemn bonds of a vow will co-op- 
erate mightily with the ordinary sanctions of 
law. The precept binds by its native force, 
the obligation is sweetened when a man 
chooses it by a free act, and re-writes it upon 

• his conscience. The vow becomes an addi- 

12 



266 



vows, 



tional security for obedience, and every in- 
stance of fidelity is an instance of moral prog- 
ress. To the conscientious man, a vow is a 
monitor, a heavenly mentor, constantly at his 
side, and when the flesh would plead and re- 
monstrate, it gently whispers, •' Remember that 
this duty has been made your choice. Your 
vow did not create the obligation, although 
in uncommanded instances it gave a specific 
consent, but already existing, your vow ac- 
cepted it, and accepted it as a good." 

The truth is, all the objections that can be 
justly urged against the benefit of vows, ap- 
ply only to that class of them which are rash 
and imprudent, which are either offensive in 
matter, or relate to acts which we have no 
warrant for assuming an obligation to per- 
form. 

Still, I am far from thinking that vows 
should be made common. To make them 
common is to cheapen them, to reduce them 
to the level of ordinary obligations ; and 
when this process is once begun, the next 
step will be to deny the reality of all obliga- 



V ows. 



267 



tions which have not been self-imposed. 
Human nature is a weak thing, and as its 
tendency is to run into extremes, it would 
be nothing strange that it should oscillate 
from the point of highest reverence for 
a vow to that of comparative contempt. 
What I insist on is, that the vow is an act 
of solemn religious worship ; that it is of 
the nature of an oath, and that, when prop- 
erly used for proper ends and on proper oc- 
casions, it is eminently conducive to virtue. 
It loses its efficacy, however, just as the 
oath does, if made the ordinary form of Chris- 
tian obedience. It should be reserved for 
extraordinary occasions, when we wish to 
erect a monument to God's goodness, or a 
memorial of our own shame, or to begin a 
new epoch in the Christian life. Familiarity 
here, as in the case of the oath, is destructive 
of reverence. There is a marked difference 
between the questions whether the vow, as an 
extraordinary act of worship, that is, in its 
true character and relations, or as an ordina- 
ry act of worship, that is, perverted from its 



268 



vows. 



true character and relations, is of beneficial 
tendency. No one can be more deeply 
sensible than I am that the consequences of 
turning every duty into a vow, are pernicious 
in the extreme. It proceeds from a weak 
and superstitious spirit, and if permitted to 
operate without check, will multiply scru- 
ples until it converts religion into torture. 
The abuse of vows consists in their fre- 
quency. Let that be guarded against, and 
they can certainly be turned to a good ac- 
count. The occasions on which they should 
be resorted to, every man must determine for 
himself. His own heart is the best expository 
of extraordinary circumstances in his own 
life. He knows its critical points, the events 
which have given shape and direction to his 
history and have left their mark upon his 
character. 

III. The next point to be discussed is the 
obligation of vows. The fact of their obli- 
gation is, of course, not disputed. The con- 
victions of every heart coincide here with 
the positive declarations of Scripture : "When 



vows. 



269 



thou shalt vow a vow unto the Lord thy 
God, thou shalt not be slack to pay it : 
for the Lord thy God will surely require 
it of thee, and it would be sin in thee. That 
which is gone out of thy lips, thou shalt 
keep and perform : even a free-will offer- 
ing, according as thou hast vowed unto the 
Lord thy God, which thou hast promised 
with thy mouth." " When thou vowest a 
vow unto God, defer not to pay it ; for 
He hath no pleasure in fools. Pay that which 
thou hast vowed. Better is it that thou 
shouldst not vow, than that thou shouldst 
vow and not pay." "Vow and pay unto 
the Lord your God." But while the fact 
is clear, the immediate grounds of the 
obligation are not directly stated, though 
they are implicitly assumed. 

I cannot forbear to notice how completely 
the theory of Dr. Paley, in regard to the 
obligation of promises, breaks down in its 
application to vows. He was perfectly con- 
scious of it, and frankly confesses it, and yet 
it seems to have raised no sort of misgiv- 



270 



vows. 



ings as to the soundness of his principles. 
It is clear that whatever is the formal cause 
of the obligation of a promise as such, must 
extend to every promise ; the whole essence 
must be found in the species. The produc- 
tion of a case, therefore, in which a prom- 
ise really exists, and yet is not binding upon 
the given ground, is conclusive evidence 
that the ground in question is not the formal 
cause of obligation in any promise. Falsus 
in uno, falsus in omnibus. We are shut up to 
the admission, either that there is no specific 
reason in the case, or that Dr. Paley's theory 
is false — either no promise is obligatory, be- 
cause it is a promise, or Dr. Paley has failed 
to indicate why any is obligatory. Listen to 
his naive confession : u Yows are promises to 
God. The obligation cannot be made out 
upon the same principle as that of other 
promises. The violation of them, neverthe- 
less, implies a want of reverence to the Su- 
preme Being; which is enough to make it sin- 
ful." Yows are promises, but they do not 
oblige because they are promises. There can 



vows. 



271 



be no deception in the case, and consequent- 
ly no breach of confidence reposed; which 
makes it so important to keep other promises. 
But though not binding as promises, they are 
still to be kept, because a breach of them im- 
plies a want of reverence for the Supreme 
Being. But how does this want of reverence 
appear ? If there was nothing sacred in the 
vow, considered as a promise, if it carried no 
obligation or enjoined no duty, if it were a 
mere moral nullity, where is the want of rev- 
erence to be found? Did not Dr. Paley feel 
in penning, and does not every reader feel in 
perusing these lines, that it is precisely be- 
cause the vow is binding as a promise, that 
the violation of it casts contempt upon God. 
Such inconsistencies and contradictions result 
from partial schemes of philosophy, and this 
is one among the thousand that might be pro- 
duced, that convicts the system of expediency, 
as expounded by Dr. Paley, of gross and 
flagrant falsehood. Of all philosophies it is 
the most shallow and superficial, and its prin- 
cipal recommendation is to simple minds, 



272 



vows. 



whom it flatters with the belief that they are 
possessed of principles, without the labour of 
patient thought. 

The true ground of the obligation of vows 
is very easily explained. We have but to re- 
cur to the definition — a promise made to God 
— or a promise, which is, at the same time, an 
oath. As a promise it is obligatory from the 
two-fold considerations of truth and justice 
which have been already explained. God is 
a person, and we may maintain relations to 
Him analogous to those which subsist among 
men. We can give Him of His own. The 
notion is preposterous that our engagements 
to the Almighty do not give Him a covenant- 
ed right to exact obedience at our hands. 
He does not deal with us as things. In mak- 
ing us originally in His own glorious image, 
He stamped it upon us as the prerogative of 
our nature to be persons, and in conformity 
with this high distinction, He conducts all the 
dispensations of His providence towards us. 
We are always treated by Him as persons. 
We are not tools and instruments, but con- 



vows. 



273 



scious and responsible agents, capable of giv- 
ing and receiving rights. Hence the relation 
of justice, pre-eminently a personal relation in 
our intercourse with Him, as well as with one 
another. And although the cattle upon a 
thousand hills are His, and He has no need of 
our sacrifices and offerings ; though we our- 
selves belong to Him, and all that we have 
and are, yet He condescends to accept at our 
hands what is our own by a free donation 
from Himself. He permits us. to transfer to 
Him such rights as we have, and even repre- 
sents Himself, all blessed though He be, as 
injured by faithless dealings on our part 
Hence the Scriptures do not hesitate to speak 
of Him as wronged, robbed, defrauded. The 
very passages which inculcate the faithful ob- 
servance of a vow, put it distinctly on the 
ground of justice — it is the payment of a 
debt. If Dr. Paley had apprehended the es- 
sential rectitude of truth and justice, he 
would have seen the folly of resolving the ob- 
ligation of promises into the inconveniences 

of deceit, and would have been saved his em- 
12* 



274 



vows. 



barrassment in the awkward effort to make 
infidelity to God a sin. A rustic could have 
told him, u I must fulfil my vow because my 
word is out, and God has a right to expect it 
of me." 

But a vow also partakes of the nature of an 
oath ; this is its specific difference. And while 
it binds as a promise upon the grounds of 
truth and justice, it binds as an oath upon the 
principle of reverence for God, He that 
keeps a vow is not only just, but pious — he 
that breaks it, is not only guilty of injustice, 
but perjury. Hence the enormous malignity 
of the sin. The Word of God, as well as the 
common consent of all civilized nations, has 
attributed the highest degree of sanctity to 
the oath, and he that is not held by it has 
cut loose from all moral obligations. He that 
has no reverence for the awful name of God, 
has severed the last tie which binds him to 
truth. He is an outlaw in the universe — a 
star of disastrous omen that has broken be- 
yond the attraction of its central sun, and 
must be left to pursue its course unchecked 



vows. 



275 



by the only power that could keep it in its 
orbit. Nultum vinculum ad astringendam 
fidem, says Cicero, majores nostri jure-juran- 
do arctius esse volueruni. And the highest 
authority has assured us that the Lord will 
not hold him guiltless that taketh His name in 
vain. So sacred were oaths esteemed among 
the ancient Romans, that they needed no pro- 
tection from law. The perjured man was 
simply exposed by the Censor, and that was 
enough. The brand of infamy was upon him, 
and like the taint of leprosy, debarred him 
from the fellowship of his species, and left 
him to the vengeance of the insulted God. 

And yet what gives to perjury its maligni- 
ty above a common lie — and it is a thought 
which I would earnestly impress upon the 
youthful mind — is perhaps the most common 
of all the sins that are daily committed— it is 
want of reverence for God, The oath or vow 
breaker carries it to the point of positive con- 
tempt. He openly defies that august and 
terrible majesty before which angels bow and 
arch-angels veil their faces. It is a sin, the. 



276 



vows. 



enormity of which the imagination cannot 
conceive, because no thought can compass the 
infinite excellence of Him, whose prerogative 
it is to be, who sits upon the circle of the 
earth and the inhabitants thereof are as grass- 
hoppers, who stretcheth out the heavens as a 
curtain and spreadeth them out as a tent to 
dwell in. That a puny creature of the dust, 
born to-day and gone to-morrow, should have 
the audacity to pour contempt upon that glo- 
rious name, which seraphs adore with rap- 
ture, is enough to astonish the heavens and 
convulse the earth. Yea, still more astonish- 
ing is that miracle of patience which endures 
the monsters, when one word would arm all 
nature against them, make the ground treach- 
erous beneath them, heaven terrible above 
them, and hell ready to meet them at their 
coming. The magnitude of the sin cannot be 
exaggerated, and yet the principle, to which 
it is' indebted for its preeminence in guilt, is 
constantly exemplified in the speech and in- 
tercourse of those who would be shocked at 
the imputation of any thing that approxi? 



vows. 



277 



mates to perjury. Profane swearing, light and 
frivolous appeals to the Almighty, the indis- 
criminate use of the lot, all these are only dif- 
ferent forms of expressing irreverence for 
God. They contain the ingredients of the 
same poison with perjury and vow breach. 
It is a startling reflection that the very cir- 
cumstance which distinguishes these from an 
ordinary falsehood and has armed the senti- 
ments of mankind against them, brands the 
speech of the profane swearer with the same 
species of crime. It is not, I admit, the same 
in degree, but it is the same in kind. The 
thoughtlessness which is often pleaded in ex- 
tenuation of the guilt, is a confession of the 
fact. It is a proof how little veneration the 
name of God inspires, when we can pronounce 
it in reiterated blasphemies, without even be- 
ing conscious that a word is escaping from 
our lips which fills all heaven with awe. It 
is a proof how near we come to despising it, 
when we can use it in the mere wantonness 
of sport, as a convenient expletive to fill up 
the chasms of discourse. It is a proof that all 



278 



vows. 



respect for it is gone when we can use it to 
point a jest, to season obscenity, and to gar- 
nish a tale. It is enough to make the blood 
curdle to think of the name of God bandied 
about as the bauble and plaything of fools. 
This offence cannot go unpunished. If there 
be a God, He must vindicate His own majesty 
and glory. There must be a period when all 
shall tremble before Him, when every knee 
shall bow and every heart shall do rever- 
ence. The sword of justice cannot always be 
sheathed, nor the arm of vengeance slumber. 
Engrave it upon your minds, fix it in the 
very depths of your souls, that it is a fearful 
thing to make light of God. It is the very 
spirit and essence of all evil, the very core of 
iniquity. There is no language of earnestness 
in which I would not warn you against it, no 
language of expostulation or entreaty in 
which 1 would not implore you against it. If 
you could see it as the angels see it; or as 
the spirits of just men made perfect see it; if 
you could see it as you yourselves will see it 
in that day when God shall arise to shake ter- 



vows. 



279 



ribly the earth — when Jesus shall sit upon the 
throne of His glory, and the tribes of earth 
shall be gathered before Him; if you could 
see as it is, in the naked enormity of its guilt, 
you would flee from it as from the very pesti- 
lence of death. You may sport with the 
whirlwind and trifle with the storm, you may 
lay your hand upon the lion's mane and play 
with the leopard's spots, you may go to the 
very crater of a burning volcano, and laugh 
at the lava which it belches out in thunder, 
you may trifle with any and every thing, but 
trifle not with God. Let there be one holy 
thing upon which you dare not lay a profane 
hand, and let that be the name of God. 
Above all things let His throne be sacred, 
and His praise be glorious. Who would not 
fear thee, oh thou king of Saints ? 

There are reflections suggested by this sub- 
ject, which, at the risk of being tedious, I 
cannot repress. In treating of the benefit of 
vows I had occasion to allude to the comfort 
and strength imparted to the true believer by 
the consciousness that he belongs to God, 



280 



vows. 



This thought is an anchor to the soul amid 
the storms of temptation and adversity; it 
carries assurance of divine care and of divine 
protection. But it has its counterpart, and 
though the everlasting covenant is so ordered 
that the Lord will never depart from His 
children, to do them good, yet this very 
kindness towards them aggravates the crime 
of their unfaithfulness to Him. It is mourn- 
ful to reflect to what a fearful extent spiritual 
perjury obtains. The vows of God are upon 
us, we profess to be devoted to Him, and yet 
our pledges are unredeemed, our promises 
forgotten — our faith broken. He has taken 
us into a covenant which keeps us, and yet 
we live for the world ; we forget His glory in 
our pleasures and our gains. The mark can- 
not be discerned upon our foreheads, and 
through us His precious name is profaned. 
The most faithful have occasion to blush — the 
daughter of Zion may well bow her head in 
the dust. If God tenderly forgives us, surely 
we can never forgive ourselves for the ingrat- 
itude, the meanness, the baseness of not keep- 



vows. 



281 



ing faith with Him who is the very fountain 
and source of truth. 

But you congratulate yourselves, perhaps, 
that you are exempt from the temptation to 
spiritual perjury. The vows of God are not 
upon you. You have entered into no en- 
gagements to serve him, and consequently, 
whatever other crimes you may commit, you 
are free from the charge of breaking faith with 
your Maker. There is in this condition no 
cause of exultation. The exemption from 
one specific sin is purchased at a dreadful 
price. You are, according to the statement, 
aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and 
strangers to the covenants of promise. You 
are without Christ, and consequently without 
God and without hope in the world. There 
is something overwhelming in the thought of 
having no God to go to; and yet this is 
the condition, and the only condition, upon 
which you can plead immunity from the 
possibility of breaking vows. 

But is it certain that the vows of God are 
not on you ? It may be that your parents at 



282 



V ows. 



your birth solemnly devoted you to Him. 
This act of theirs, sanctioned by His authority, 
you are bound to respect, and all the engage- 
ments, in regard to you, which, consistently 
with parental rights, they have made, you are 
bound to observe. They were your guar- 
dians before you were conscious of the need 
of a protector, and if they have devoted you 
to God, you are not at liberty to regard your- 
selves as your own. You cannot, without 
sacrilege, prostitute your talents, faculties, 
and members, to a profane purpose. Holi- 
ness to the Lord must be written upon your 
foreheads, and when you forget the obliga- 
tions it implies, and walk in the light of your 
own eyes, and after the imaginations of your 
own hearts, you as much despise the cove- 
' nanted claims of God, as if you had given 
yourselves to His service by your own free 
act. You have been made a vessel of the 
sanctuary ; and in surrendering your being to 
secular ends, you are guilty of the same 
species of sin, which he commits who defiles 
the temple of the Lord. Think not, there- 



vows. 



283 



fore, to escape the guilt of profaneness by 
pleading the absence of vows. It was Solo- 
mon who built and consecrated the august 
edifice on Moriah, but, being consecrated, it 
was sacred to all generations. I am afraid 
that the sanctity of the relation which the 
piety of the parents has constituted between 
their children and God, is very inadequately 
understood. The young do not recognise and 
feel the right which it gives Him to them — 
they do not appreciate their state of external 
holiness — and consequently, fail to compre- 
hend the malignity of guilt which is involved 
in the absence of inward purity. It is a great 
blessing to be thus in covenant with God — it 
is an equal curse to despise it. I beseech you, 
therefore, to bethink yourselves, and while 
you are boasting that you are free from per- 
jury, take care that you are not tainted with 
sacrilege. It is the same sin, profaneness in 
a different dress. 

But is it so that you are free from vows 
which you have voluntarily assumed? Do 
you not remember the time, when your days 



284 



vows. 



were consumed like smoke, and your bones 
burned as an hearth, when your souls ab- 
horred all manner of meat, and you drew 
near to the gates of death ? Do you not re- 
member your anxious thoughts, your solemn 
reflections, your agonizing fears? Then you 
cried unto the Lord in your trouble, and in 
the depths of your distress bound yourselves 
to His service. Have you forgotten the 
promise you made when you trembled at the 
mouth of the grave ? Have you forgotten 
the vows which you uttered when you shrunk 
in terror from the prospect of eternity? He 
slew them, then they sought Him ; and they 
returned and inquired early after God. And 
they remembered that God was their rock, 
and the high God their redeemer. These 
vows, be assured, are recorded in heaven; 
they imposed a solemn obligation on your 
souls, from which no power on earth can re- 
lease you ; and they will confront and haunt 
you, if unredeemed, in the day of retribution, 
and throughout eternity, as the ghosts of the 
murdered. Such flattering with the mouth, 



vows. 



285 



such lying with the tongue, when the heart is 
not right with God, nor steadfast in His cov- 
enant — such promises made to procure fa- 
vours, and forgotten as soon as the favours 
are enjoyed, are a mixture of ingratitude, per- 
fidy, and profaneness, which cannot escape 
vengeance. Talk not of your exemption from 
perjury, when such witnesses are prepared to 
testify against you. Wipe not your mouths 
and carelessly protest that you have done no- 
thing wrong, when you have lied unto God, 
and proved recreant to the most solemn en- 
gagements that it is possible for man to make. 
You are perjured — your souls are blackened 
with guilt, and unless they are purged and 
washed through the blood of the everlasting 
covenant, it will be like a mill-stone around 
your necks, to sink you to the lowest hell. 
God is not to be mocked. The conduct 
which in relation to a fellow-man, would 
doom you to infamy, think you it loses any 
of its atrocity when directed to Him who is 
the very centre and perfection of right ? The 
greatest and best of beings, is He alone to be 



286 



vows. 



degraded so low in the scale of personal ex- 
istence, that faith and honour lose their sig- 
nificancy when applied to our intercourse 
with Him? Tell it not in Gath, publish it 
not in the streets of Askelon ! 

There are other occasions on which you 
have remembered God and solemnly plighted 
your faith that you would serve Him. When 
the pestilence was walking in darkness and 
destruction wasting at noon-day, when a 
thousand were falling at your side and ten 
thousand at your right hand, when you were 
afraid of the terror by night and the arrow 
that flieth by day, then you sought the pro- 
tection of the Almighty with promises and 
vows, with strong crying and tears. You are 
a father, and have you forgotten the resolu- 
tions which you bound upon your souls, as 
you hung over the form of a dying child, or 
consigned its dead body to the grave ? You 
are a husband, and do you not remember the 
agony of your prayers when you implored 
the Almighty to spare the wife of your 
bosom? Have you forgotten the promises, 



V ows. 



287 



thrice repeated, by which you hoped to re- 
deem your beloved one from the jaws of 
death ? She still lives ; but where are those 
vows ? 

You are thoughtless and impenitent. 
There was a time when you trembled at the 
Word of God — when the sense of guilt was 
fastened upon your consciences, and your 
bones waxed old through your roaring all the 
day long. You felt that you were a sinner, 
and must be born again. But you were not 
yet ready for the change. Did you not, in 
the conflicts of your spirit, solemnly pledge 
yourselves to God, that, at a given time, 
when a given scheme was accomplished, you 
would turn to Him and live ? That time has 
come and gone — that scheme has been real- 
a ized — but where are you ? It is vain for any 
man who has a conscience, and who believes 
in Providence and law, it is vain for any man 
who has ever reflected upon his nature and 
his prospects, to allege that he is under no 
vows to God. We have all made them, and 
alas ! we have all broken them. Their wrecks 



288 



vows. 



may be seen along the whole course of our 
history — perfidy and ingratitude have marked 
our career ; our lives have been a vast, un- 
broken lie — and our true posture is, with our 
hands on our mouths and our faces in the 
dust. When I reflect upon the magnitude of 
human guilt in this single aspect of it, I am 
amazed and confounded at the long-suffering 
forbearance of God. Antecedently to expe- 
rience no creature could have dreamed that 
Infinite Holiness could have endured for a 
day or an hour such monsters of ingratitude, 
treachery and fraud, as we have shown our- 
selves to be in the whole course of our deal- 
ings with the Father of lights. I am ashamed 
of myself, I am ashamed of my species, 
when I recollect how false and faithless we 
have been. Who can boast of his honour, 
who can scorn the imputation of a lie, when 
there are promises in heaven unredeemed — - 
vows that are forgotten or despised? Who 
dares glory in his righteousness, when the 
first principles of justice are openly trans- 
gressed? No, no. We have all sinned and 



vows. 



289 



come short of the glory of God. But, in his 
amazing goodness, there is a remedy. All- 
guilty as we are, we can be pardoned and ac- 
cepted — all-polluted as we are, we can be 
purified and cleansed. There is a fountain 
opened in the house of David for sin and un- 
cleanness. Let us wash in that fountain and 
we shall come forth new men, men of real 
truth, honour, and integrity. The laws of 
God will be put into our minds and written 
upon our hearts, and the Eternal Spirit will 
effectually train us for glory, honour, and im- 
mortality, and crown us with eternal life. 
Oh ! that men would praise the Lord for his 
goodness and for his wonderful works to the 
children of men. 

13 



Coitststettrp 



" Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true — think on 
these things." — Philippians, iv. 8. 

^ Tri ^ TTTT The primary notion of consist- 

DISC. VIL] i. 

ency, according to the etymolo- 
gy of the word, is that of the agreement or 
correspondence, the standing together, of things 
compared, and it receives different names ac- 
cording to the cause or effects of the agree- 
ment in question. When the things com- 
pared are our life and opinions, at successive 
periods of our history, there emerges the 
meaning of constancy or firmness ; the cause 
of the coincidence — the man, being felt to 
have stood his ground. When the things 
compared are our conduct and relations, the 
agreement or proportion is denominated de- 
cency ; the effect produced upon the mind of 



CONSISTENCY. 



291 



the spectator. When the relations are moral, 
the deportment which corresponds to them is 
virtue ; when external and incidental, the de- 
portment is simply decorum. When the 
things compared are our professions and our 
deeds, we receive the commendation of sin- 
cerity- or faithfulness, according to the nature 
of the professions themselves. The man's 
principles and life stand harmoniously togeth- 
er. Hence, by an easy and natural applica- 
tion of its primary import, consistency em- 
braces stability of opinion, harmony of life, 
and decency or propriety of behaviour, in- 
cluding equally the obligations of rectitude 
and the lesser morality of manners. It is 
only in the sense of constancy that it is prop- 
erly referred to the department of truth, as in 
that sense, it indicates honesty of sentiment, 
and fulfils the expectations which our princi- 
ples, character, and conduct, a species of 
promise, have excited. Though it is essential 
to integrity, the necessary result of truth in 
the inward parts, yet, in itself considered, 
Constancy is neither a virtue nor a vice. Its 



292 



CONSISTENCY. 



moral character depends upon the moral char- 
acter of the past which it continues to repro- 
duce and to perpetuate. It expresses only 
the notion of perseverance or continuance ; it 
transmits the man unchanged from one period 
of his being to another ; and as there may be 
uniformity in wickedness, as well as steadfast- 
ness in duty, consistency is entitled to praise 
or blame, not for itself, but according to the 
nature of the things in which it pursues the 
even tenour of its way. There is no credit in 
perseverance, unless it be a perseverance in 
right. When our professions and conduct 
give a promise of sin, we are no more at lib- 
erty to gratify the expectations they excite, 
than to keep any other unlawful engagement. 
Repentance, or a radical change of mind — a 
thorough revolution of purpose and of life — is 
as much a duty, as to be steadfast and unmov- 
able, when our previous course has abounded 
in the work of the Lord. To persevere is a 
virtue only when we have begun well. When 
the past has been right, then, and then only, 
should the future be shaped in conformity 



CONSISTENCY. 



293 



with it. Consistency, in this case, is nothing 
but the continued recognition of the suprema- 
cy of right ; the predominance, in every suc- 
cessive moment of our history, of the un- 
changing obligations of morality and religion. 
The obligation of it is only another name for 
the unceasing obligation of virtue. We are 
to be uniform and constant in well-doing, be- 
cause the same reason which requires integri- 
ty to-day, will exact it to-morrow ; the same 
reason which requires us to begin, requires us 
to hold on. The succession of moments or 
the revolution of years makes no change in 
the stable principles of rectitude. They, like 
their eternal Author, are without variableness 
or shadow of turning ; the same yesterday, to- 
day, and forever. As long as the elements of 
moral responsibility attach to us, whether our 
winters have been few or many, the same 
rules of truth, justice, piety, and benevolence, 
must continue to regulate our lives. Duty is 
determined by our nature and not by our age. 
Increasing years, it is true, unfold new rela- 
tions, and develope larger capacities. The 



294 



CONSISTENCY. 



circle of duty may expand, but its nature is 
subject to no change. With this preliminary 
explanation I proceed to the consideration of 
the general subject of consistency, as em- 
braced under the head of constancy, — the 
only one which falls within the scope of 
these discourses, — including stability of opin- 
ion and harmony of life. 

I. Stability of opinion, it deserves first to 
be remarked, is not incompatible with all 
change. Absolute immutability is the prerog- 
ative of God alone. It would not be a per- 
fection even in Him, were He not perfect in 
all other respects, so that the notion of change 
involves necessarily the notion of deteriora- 
tion or injury. Finite creatures, from the very 
law of their nature, are subject to change 
in being made capable of improvement. 
Their growth, expansion, and developement 
of faculties, the invigoration of their habits, 
and confirmation of their principles are all 
so many changes for the better. To exempt 
them from change would be to stereotype 
their imbecility and ignorance. When we 



CONSISTENCY. 



295 



commend consistency of opinion, we neither 
mean to exclude progress nor the abandon- 
ment of error. If, through the operation of 
any cause, a man has adopted as true what he 
subsequently finds to be false, genuine con- 
sistency requires that he should relinquish the 
dogma. The pervading love of truth is the 
spirit which should regulate all of our opin- 
ions, the standard by which consistency is 
to be tried, the touchstone of intellectual in- 
tegrity. Whatever doctrines or sentiments 
are not the results of its operation are preju- 
dices, even should they chance not to be 
errors; and whatever changes are effected 
through its energy and influence, are elements 
of progress, and contribute to the real perfec- 
tion of our nature. He only deserves the 
commendation of firmness of opinion who be- 
gan with the predominating love of truth, and 
has maintained it steadily and sincerely in all 
the subsequent periods of his history. The 
law of his intellectual life gives unity and con- 
sistency to all the operations of his mind. 
Amid all his changes, he has still been the 



296 



CONSISTENCY. 



same. The streamlet winds around rocks and 
hills, but it still bends its course to the river, 
as the river bends its course to the sea. The 
uniform ascendency of candour, or the love 
of truth, is the life and soul of the only 
species of consistency which a wise man de- 
sires to possess. To have an opinion to-day 
merely because we had it yesterday, without 
reference to the grounds on which it was 
adopted, is childish folly. Error is none the 
more sacred for having been embraced — a lie 
none the more venerable for having been 
told. 

Fickleness of opinion, apart from dishonesty 
arises, for the most part, from an imbecility of 
understanding, which fluctuates between con- 
flicting probabilities without being able to de- 
termine the preponderance. It cannot sur- 
vey the question as a whole, — a single view 
excludes every other from the horizon of its 
vision; as each side is successively examined, 
each, for the moment, appears to be inviting. 
The mind vacillates and wavers. The assent 
oscillates from argument to argument, without 



CONSISTENCY. 



297 



the power of becoming fixed. The man is 
always of the last opinion which had pleaded 
its cause before him. He wants breadth of 
intellect — he wants the power of comparing 
and weighing. The forces, to borrow a phys- 
ical illustration, act upon him successively 
and singly — he wants the power of combining 
and resolving them. u His second thinking 
only upsets the first, and his third confounds 
them both." The case of such a man, to use 
the striking illustration of Foster — u is like 
the case of a rustic walking in London, who, 
having no certain direction through the vast 
confusion of streets to the place where he 
wishes to be, advances and hesitates, and 
turns and inquires, and becomes, at each cor- 
ner, still more inextricably perplexed." Men 
of extraordinary acuteness are apt to be the 
victims of their own ingenuity. They see 
objections, in the minuteness of their gaze, 
which others, of wider vision, had over- 
looked. Straws are magnified into formida- 
ble obstacles, and mole-hills swell into moun- 
tains. Men of this sort cannot be said to have 

13* 



298 



CONSISTENCY. 



an opinion. Their assent is not stable enough 
to deserve the name — it is hardly more than 
a leaning, and hence they are ever learn- 
ing and never able to arrive at the knowl- 
edge of the truth. They are only the recep- 
tacles of the various appearances of things 
which, in succession, invite their attention — 
and like the chameleon, they always exhibit 
the colour of the last object they touch. 
What they call their opinions are simply 
copies of these successive impressions — and 
are as various and fluctuating as the phenome- 
na themselves. These are the species of 
changes which constitute fickleness — this is 
real vacillation. But a change from the less 
to the more perfect, from error to truth, indi- 
cates neither weakness nor oscillation. 

II. No more is consistency, or firmness of 
opinion, to be confounded with obstinacy. 
That is the creature, not of evidence or the 
love of truth, but of stupidity or pride. It 
may spring from an incapacity to appreciate 
argument — a vis inertice of the mind — which 
causes it to stagnate in its present condition, 



CONSISTENCY. 



299 



and then, as Foster has happily illustrated 
a kindred temper, "its constancy is rather of 
the nature of a dead weight than of strength ; 
resembling less the re-action of a powerful 
spring than the gravitation of a big stone. 11 
Or it may arise from incorrigible headiness, 
which prefers the reputation of consistency to 
that of candour, and sacrifices truth to vanity. 
Its decisive argument in this aspect is always 
personal, /have said so, or /'have expressed 
such an opinion, and, like the law of the 
Medes and Persians, I cannot change. It is a 
blind, bold presumption of personal infallibili- 
ty. The ass or the mule may be obstinate, 
but neither can ever be consistent. Consist- 
ency is the inflexibility of principle — obstina- 
cy the inflexibility of pride. Reason predom- 
inates in the one — will, in the other. The 
one is a homage to truth — the other is the 
idolatry of self, When obstinacy is associated 
with un charitableness, it becomes bigotry. It 
is one of the effects of candid inquiry, acconu 
panied as it is with a sense of the difficulties 
that attend the investigation of truth, that it 



300 



CONSISTENCY. 



renders us lenient to the weaknesses and 
errors of others. We may be sensible of the 
mischief likely to result from perverse opin- 
ions, and may feel the obligation of counter- 
acting their influence, but we learn to distin- 
guish betwixt the sentiments and the man. 
The worst doctrines excite in relation to the 
individual only pity or compassion, though, 
in themselves, they are the objects of a right- 
eous abhorrence. It is not more character- 
istic of charity that it rejoices in the truth, 
than it is characteristic of the love of truth 
that it rejoices in charity. The consistent 
man, however, is, by no means, insensible to 
error. There is a bastard liberality which 
conceals its indifference under the specious 
pretext of thinking no evil. There is not en- 
ergy enough in its apprehensions of truth to 
rouse any emotion — there is nothing that can 
be called love. It is the frigid tranquillity of 
a mind which prefers ease to every other 
good. 

But as the counterpart of spurious charity 
(such is the weakness of human nature). 



CONSISTENCY. 



301 



we are constantly tempted to confound asper- 
ity of invective with zeal for truth — bitterness 
of denunciation with opposition to error. We 
are prone to call down fire from heaven upon 
those who differ from us — forgetting that the 
dispensation has passed away, in which truth 
was civil obedience, and error rebellion 
against the State. Opinions, except in cases 
in which they are promotive of sedition or of 
crime, are no longer offences within the juris- 
diction of the magistrate — and we are not at 
liberty to cherish a spirit which would prompt 
us to persecute, if persecution were still with- 
in our power. The golden mean betwixt in- 
difference on the one hand and intolerance on 
the other, is characteristic of genuine consist- 
ency. There is a love of truth, which is 
superior to every other consideration — there 
is also, from the necessary law of contraries, 
a corresponding detestation of falsehood. 
There is also sympathy with the weakness 
and prejudices of men — and a sincere desire 
to see the emancipation of their minds fully 
achieved. The result is a mixed state, in 



302 



CONSISTENCY. 



which all these elements are fused — the ex- 
emplification of the apostolic method of 
speaking the truth in love. It should not be 
overlooked that there are occasions on which 
the profoundest charity employs the language 
of the sternest rebuke. Men must sometimes 
be pulled out of the fire with violence, and in 
such cases it is preposterous to complain of 
the rudeness of the means, when they were 
the only ones that could avail. The sleeping 
hypocrite is not to be aroused by honeyed 
words, nor a shameful imposture exposed by 
delicate and courtly phrases. It is Charity 
herself that thunders the woe in their ears. 
It is not the language of malice — but of pity 
—and it is with a heavy heart and a sad 
countenance that he who is intent upon the 
best interests of his race, must denounce the 
vengeance of God against those, whom his 
very earnestness evinces, that he is anxious to 
rescue from ruin. He has no pleasure in com 
templating the doom he proclaims. It is not 
the constancy nor the zeal of the bigot and 
sectary which justly exposes them to con- 



CONSISTENCY. 



303 



tempt — it is the pride which lies at the bot- 
tom of their opinions and the malignity which 
pervades their spirit. They neither love 
truth nor their race — they are simply lovers 
of themselves. 

There is no truth which the young are in 
more danger of forgetting, than that genuine 
stability of opinion can never be obtained as 
the object of direct effort. To make constan- 
cy an idol is to disregard the authority of 
candour, as the pervading law of intellectual 
activity. It is a foolish prejudice which hesi- 
tates to inquire, because it is afraid of change. 
True firmness is only the result of a perpetual 
and persevering honesty of mind. He that 
always walks by the same rule need not be 
afraid of inconsistency. Make the love of 
truth the supreme principle of thought, guard 
against the influences which are likely to se- 
duce you into error, love truth for itself and 
not for its dowry, and your path will be as 
the shining light, which shineth more and 
more unto the perfect day. If, at any time, 
you have been deceived by error, do not 



304 



CONSISTENCY. 



hesitate to renounce it as soon as it is discov- 
ered. Let no pride of opinion replace can- 
dour with obstinacy, or tempt you to con- 
found stubbornness with firmness. Be not 
ashamed to acknowledge that you are fallible 
and imperfect — but be ashamed to confess 
that you prefer stagnation to improvement. 
It was a noble answer of Melancthon, when 
reproached with inconsistency on account of 
the abandonment in later life of some of his 
juvenile opinions; that he would be very 
sorry to think that he had lived so long with- 
out learning anything. The same silly preju- 
dice against change which tempts us to 
stereotype opinions, is the deadly foe to all 
improvement in the State. Innovations are 
dreaded, without respect to their character 
and tendencies, on the naked ground that 
they involve a departure from established cus- 
toms. Beyond doubt, a presumption is al- 
ways against them — and it is far better to 
stand still than to introduce changes merely 
from the love of novelty. But society, like 
the individual, is certainly capable of im- 



CONSISTENCY. 



30o 



provement, and when it is a real "reforma- 
tion that draweth on the change, and not the 
desire of change that pretendeth the reforma- 
tion," it is a blind idolatry of the past that re- 
sists the innovation. True conservation com- 
bines stability with the spirit of progress. It 
retains the good and incorporates with it 
whatever of utility or excellence the present 
has to offer. It imitates time, which, as Lord 
Bacon remarks, "innovateth greatly, but 
quietly, and by degrees scarce to be per- 
ceived." It is opposed to all violent disrup- 
tions or radical revolutions; it would have 
the past and the future so imperceptibly 
blended with each other, that they should run 
together and coalesce, without an absolute 
commencement or a sudden termination. 

As fickleness results, in a great measure, 
from imbecility of understanding and a want 
of confidence in our own judgments, it is a 
matter of the utmost importance that we train 
our minds to a military discipline of thought. 
There are some persons who can hardly be 
said to think — they are the passive recipients 



306 



CONSISTENCY. 



of impressions and suggestions, derived from 
their circumstances or surrounding objects ; 
but they exert no active influence upon the 
train which passes through their minds. 
They have no grasp of any thing. Hence 
what they call their opinions must sit loosely 
upon them. The least opposition or difficulty 
disconcerts them — they dare not rely upon 
themselves. The remedy against this evil is 
the habit, acquired by ceaseless vigilance and 
discipline, of thinking clearly, distinctly, and 
coherently. The confidence in our facul- 
ties must not be a reckless presumption ; this 
is the parent of obstinacy and conceit — it 
must result from the consciousness that we see 
things in their just proportions, and survey 
them in their true significancy. The confi- 
dence of philosophy is always accompanied 
by humility and modesty. Though the man 
may feel that his notions are clear and con- 
nected, and entertain no distrust of any given 
opinion, yet there is such an habitual sense of 
the limitation of his faculties and of the 
boundless regions over which his ignorance 



CONSISTENCY. 



807 



extends, that he is always modest and unas- 
suming. Presumption, on the contrary, as- 
pires to omniscience — it regards its facul- 
ties as competent for any thing, and is pre- 
pared to assert that nothing exists beyond the 
territory in which its excursions have been 
made. 

The fickleness which results from the in- 
fluences of sinister motives, in which the 
heart is made to corrupt the head, deserves 
rather to be called dishonesty than fickleness. 
As we have already seen, belief is not wholly 
involuntary. We can mould our opinions 
into the type of our passions and our interests. 
A sophist may finally succeed in persuad- 
ing his understanding to embrace any lie. 
When interest or ambition, or the love of 
pleasure, is stronger than the love of truth, 
we may expect a man to reflect, in the variety 
of his opinions, the variety of shapes which 
these objects are accustomed to assume. This 
is, perhaps, the most fruitful source of the 
changes in principle which distinguish those 
who court popular favour. They trim their 



308 



CONSISTENCY. 



sails to the breeze. In some instances they 
are flagrantly dishonest — they profess opin- 
ions which they do not believe ; but in many 
others, they are the dupes of their pas- 
sions. They have revolved the desirableness 
of change so long and earnestly, that they 
finally experience it. It is this species of 
fickleness which the moral sense of mankind 
so indignantly condemns. We can pity the 
man who vacillates because he is incapable 
of vigourous and systematic thought — but the 
man who changes his opinions with his inter- 
ests, who inquires only for the expedient and 
not for the true — who is more solicitous about 
what shall serve a turn, than what is condu- 
cive to the health of his understanding or the 
good of his kind, we despise too much to 
pity. The baseness of such conduct, and the 
moral resentment which every ingenuous 
mind cherishes against it, bring all change 
into suspicion. Men seek consistency for it- 
self, in order to escape the odium of sinister 
and selfish motives. They feel that the impu- 
tation of dishonesty may be cast upon them, 



CONSISTENCY. 



309 



and are afraid to confess their errors, and fol- 
low the course of their sincere and unbiassed 
convictions. 

The only antidote to this species of incon- 
sistency is to be found in that moral and re- 
ligious culture, which gives the law of God 
and the authority of conscience the suprema- 
cy to which they are entitled. We must 
expel unhallowed motives by the operation 
of others of an opposite character — the devils 
must be ejected by fasting and prayer. It is 
a corrupt and deceitful nature which occa- 
sions the mischief, and a complete exemption 
can only be secured by the renovation of the 
soul. The fountain must be purified — the 
tree made good — or no thorough reformation 
can take place. No man is safe from the 
danger of tergiversation and apostasy as long 
as any principle obtains in his heart stronger 
than the fear of God. There is always a 
point, like the heel of Achilles, in which he is 
vulnerable. 

II. Closely allied to stability of opinion is 
consistency or harmony of life. When a 



310 



CONSISTENCY. 



man's actions correspond to his professed 
principles and fulfil the expectations which 
his character and past conduct have excited, 
he is entitled to the distinction of a consistent 
man. "His carriage is conformable to itself." 
The standard of virtuous consistency is the 
pervading influence of integrity of heart. He 
whose eye is single will never be wayward in 
his course. 

Inconsistency may spring from a defect of 
understanding which grasps its principles too 
loosely to give them an operative influence 
upon the conduct, or from defect of will, 
which is not able to resist the temptations to 
a contrary course ; or from defect of honesty, 
in professing principles which one does not 
actually believe. The first is hypocrisy, the 
second weakness, and the third fickleness. 

1. In the first case, the principles may be 
sound and upright, but as they have no hold 
upon the heart, the springs of action are inde- 
pendent of them, as to the influences which 
excite and the motives which regulate their 
course. The man is as completely the crea- 



CONSISTENCY. 



311 



ture of impulse, as if he were destitute of 
reason or of conscience. This want of energy 
in the understanding is a very different thing 
from impotency of will. The principles 
ivould controul, if the man had a firm hold 
upon them — but his notions are superficial, his 
thoughts without intensity — his mind is lan- 
guid and sleepy. He rather dozes over his 
principles than believes them. As there is a 
torpor of the imagination which often renders 
a man rude and repulsive, through inability 
to exchange situations with another, and real- 
ize his own feelings upon the change, so every 
one must have noticed, that the intellectual 
operations of some men are so lifeless and 
inert, that, for all practical purposes, they 
might almost as well be without an under- 
standing at all. Such men, when required to 
act, are like a ship without a rudder, exposed 
to the mercy of the winds and waves. Their 
impulses are apt to be in the inverse ratio of 
their mental energy — and hence their conduct 
may be expected to exhibit all the fluctua- 
tions and caprices of passion and appetite. 



312 CONSISTENCY. 

The explanation of their waywardness is not 
that they have no principles, but that their 
principles want intensity; they are on the 
surface — not in the texture of the soul. 

2. By defect of will in the second case, I 
mean a defect in strength of purpose. There 
are sound principles and there is a general 
resolution to exemplify them in life ; but 
upon occasions of sudden temptation — or 
where the inducements to transgression are 
strong and multiplied, the will is mastered. 
In this case there is no torpor — there are life 
and activity — there is often a severe, some- 
times a protracted conflict — and the will sel- 
dom yields until the understanding has been 
bribed into a lie. But still, as the seat of the 
disorder is in the active principles of our na- 
ture, and as the temptation was immediately 
addressed to them, this species of inconsistency 
may be ascribed to the state of the will. This 
is the kind of inconsistency that most general- 
ly prevails in the world. The changes of 
fortune from adversity to prosperity or from 
prosperity to adversity, from honour to shame 



CONSISTENCY. 



313 



or from contempt to popularity, from poverty 
to wealth or from wealth to poverty — the 
changes of situation, from a public to a pri- 
vate or from a private to a public station, our 
different circumstances and relations — the dif- 
ferent societies into which we are thrown, are 
so many trials of the strength of virtue, and 
few have been able to undergo them without 
tripping in their steps. To keep the even 
tenour of one's way in sunshine and storm, 
through evil as well as through good report, 
amid afflictions and reproaches as well as 
smiles and benedictions, is a proof of integri- 
ty which he is thrice-blessed who can appro- 
priate to himself. To be always the same, at 
all times, in all places, in all conditions, in all 
companies — to stand firmly by our principles 
at every sacrifice of interest or of fame — to 
consent to be misunderstood and maligned 
rather than let go our integrity — to count no- 
thing a good but duty, nothing ill but wrong 
— this is a perfection of character, which, 
while it is incumbent upon all to pursue, such 

is the melancholy weakness of human nature, 

14 



314 



CONSISTENCY. 



that it has never been realized but once. Our 
efforts are at best but faint approximations. 
We press forward — not that we have already 
attained — but the prize is in view. We have 
but one rule to go by. The law of the Lord 
must be in our hearts, must be the controlling 
law of our wills, if we would keep us from 
the paths of the destroyer. When the princi- 
ples of duty are habits, and holiness is the na- 
ture of the soul, then, and then only, can we 
hope to be perfect. But, in the meantime, 
our duty is to watch against temptation, and 
pray for strength to resist it. Vigilance and 
prayer are the indispensable conditions of sue- 
cess. Let no man presume upon his own 
strength. The stoutest have fallen, and 
though low and vulgar temptations may have 
no effect upon us, yet depend upon it, that 
there is some door by which every heart can 
be entered, unless kept by the keeper of 
Israel, and betrayed into the hands of the 
enemy. No man is safe but he who abides 
under the shadow of the Almighty. Of every 
other it may be truly said that he stands in 



CONSISTENCY. 



315 



slippery places, and his feet shall slide in due 
time. 

3. The third case of inconsistency is an in- 
stance of pure hypocrisy, and after what has 
already been said of the law of sincerity re- 
quires no other notice than that of stern and 
indignant reprobation. 

The conduct of men in relation to religion 
is chargeable with inconsistency in all these 
aspects. In the first place they assent to its 
doctrines — they acknowledge its overwhelm- 
ing importance — that it is the one thing need- 
ful, and should constitute the great absorbing 
business of their lives; they profess to be 
convinced of truths which it would seem are 
enough to shake heaven and earth in the 
great commotion ; and yet so little power do 
these principles have upon their minds, that 
hardly a trace of their influence can be de- 
tected in the daily walk. They receive only 
a cold and otiose assent — all living interest is 
expended upon the world. Again, when the 
conscience has been really awakened, and the 
sinner is aroused to some effort for the salva- 



316 



CONSISTE NC Y. 



tion of the soul, how feeble and irresolute are 
the decisions of the will. The truth is felt, 
but the lusts of the flesh are stronger than it, 
and, unless grace interpose, in every instance 
secure the victory. What is still worse — the 
transgressor, as a quietus to his conscience, 
sometimes assumes the obligations of religion, 
and undertakes to palm upon his God the 
form as a substitute for the substance. We 
have all dealt faithlessly upon this subject. 
We have resisted reason, conscience, and the 
Spirit of God. We have been wayward and 
rebellious children. Let us resolve, in all 
future time, to act in accordance with the 
dignity of rational and intellectual beings. 
If religion is true, let us embrace it in our 
hearts and embody it in our lives. If there 
is an endless destiny for which we are called 
to prepare, let us project our plans upon a 
scale commensurate with its grandeur, and 
pursue them to their consummation with un- 
tiring zeal and perseverance. Let us fix our 
eyes upon the skies, and, in seeking glory, 
honour, and immortality, we shall assuredly 



CONSISTENCY. 



317 



lay hold upon eternal life. Supreme devotion 
to the glory of God will give consistency to 
our thoughts and harmony to our lives. / 
have set the Lord alivays before me, because 
He is at my right hand, I shall not be moved. 

III. Before concluding this discourse, it 
may not be improper, though the subject is 
only remotely connected with that of truth, 
to make a few remarks upon that species of 
consistency which obtains in the correspond- 
ence of our actions to our external circum- 
stances and incidental relations. This is 
properly decorum or decency. In a wide 
sense decency covers the whole ground of our 
relations, and includes the dignity of virtue as 
well as the proprieties of life. There is an 
intimate alliance, no doubt, between integrity 
of heart and a delicate refinement of man- 
ners. Each adorns its possessor — each is 
beautiful and lovely. The two combined 
make up that gracefulness of character which 
Cicero so warmly commends in his Offices. 
Whatever is virtuous is certainly becoming ; it 
is adapted to the nature and state of the spe- 



318 



CONSISTENCY. 



cies — and it should be an additional incentive 
to duty, that it not only contributes to the 
health, but to the ornament and glory of man. 
In the sight of angels and of holy beings, the 
sinner is a deformed and ugly thing. His 
habits and affections are as unsuited to the 
constitution of his mind as coarse and unseem- 
ly apparel, or rude and boisterous manners, at 
a festival or at court. They contemplate him 
with feelings analogous to those with which 
we contemplate the disgusting coarseness of 
the low and abandoned. The disproportion 
betwixt his faculties and actions — betwixt his 
capacities and ends, is so huge and revolting, 
that we can well understand the terms of self- 
loathing and abhorrence, of shame and con- 
fusion of face, which true penitence is accus- 
tomed to appropriate. And of all indecen- 
cies impiety is the most monstrous. It is an 
outrage upon the original dignity of man, a 
being made but little less than the angels, and 
capable of eating angels' food, to waste his 
noble energies upon the beggarly elements of 
earth. It is a lamentation and shall be for a 



CONSISTENCY. 



319 



lamentation that he who might aspire to com- 
munion and fellowship with God, should be 
content to accept his portion among the 
beasts that perish. Religion is the true glory 
of man, and those who despise its claims, 
must, from the necessity of the case, awake to 
shame and everlasting contempt. 

But my purpose, at present, is not to dis- 
cuss the fitnesses which grow out of the es- 
sential relations of humanity, all-important as 
these are, and interesting as is the light in 
which they hold up the beauty and dignity 
of virtue. I now have in view those external 
and incidental relations which are peculiar to 
individuals, and which grow out of their age, 
station, business, and pursuits. Cicero has 
marked the distinction, and given some ad- 
mirable hints for preserving decorum in each. 
What is becoming in the young is not becom- 
ing in the old — what is becoming in a servant 
might not be becoming in his master. What is 
suited to the condition of a peasant would be 
grossly out of proportion to the state of a lord. 
The rules which custom has sanctioned are 



320 



CONSISTENCY. 



not altogether arbitrary. They are founded 
upon an analogy which is* much more easily 
felt than defined ; and delicacy of sensibil- 
ity to this species of decency is the mark of a 
noble and generous mind. It is what is com- 
monly called, especially when associated with 
solid virtue, dignity of character. This was 
the kind of fitness which Themistocles had his 
eye on, when he rebutted the imputation 
growing out of his want of a common accom- 
plishment: "I cannot fiddle, but I know how 
to make a small town a great city." It was 
not for a man, whose mind was intent upon 
grand and lofty aims, to be stooping to the 
amusements of the giddy and the gay. This 
same spirit was exemplified in Nehemiah, 
when he indignantly rejected an unworthy 
proposal : "And I said, should such a man as 
I flee? who is there that being as I am, 
would go into the temple to save his life ? I 
will not go in." In contrast to these cases is 
the conduct of Nero, fiddling when Rome was 
on fire, and disguised as a charioteer, when an 
atrocious persecution was going on. The life 



CONSISTENCY. 



321 



of the bloody Jeffreys is not more distin- 
guished by the savage depravity of his heart, 
and the prostitution of his office to the most 
wicked and corrupt designs, than by the 
brutal ferocity of his manners, and the degra- 
dation of his rank by the most shameful and 
revolting indecencies. He had as little sense 
of decorum as of duty. 

There may be refinement of external man- 
ners and scrupulous attention to outward de- 
corum, as the results of education and habit, 
without sensibility to beauty and without 
moral culture. Accomplishments may be me- 
chanically imparted and mechanically used. 
But in these cases, they are cold and repul- 
sive. They want the freshness and glow of 
nature and of life. They are truly graceful 
only when they are the genuine expressions 
of the spirit of the mind. He, therefore, that 
would aspire to the praise of dignity of char- 
acter, must study at once the general excel- 
lence of his nature and his particular sphere 
as an individual. He must aim at worth as a 

man, and at propriety as such a man. He 
14* 



322 



CONSISTENCY. 



must cherish a nice discernment of the beau- 
tiful and becoming, and not permit himself 
to become familiar with the little, the degrad- 
ing, and the mean. 

It is in their relaxations and amusements 
that men are most apt to forget what is due 
to their character. When the eye of the 
world is upon them, or when they are en- 
gaged in their pursuits of business, they are 
not so likely to unbend. But in their hours 
of recreation they not unfrequently compound 
with their dignity. This is particularly the 
case with the young, at that most important 
period of their lives, when they are laying 
the foundations of their future characters. 
Colleges and universities, both in this country 
and Europe, have suffered from no cause 
more severely than inattention on the part of 
their students, to what was due to the station 
they occupy. The indecency of their amuse- 
ments has been the bane of these seats of 
learning, and has counteracted the effect, in 
multiplied instances, of the most faithful in- 
struction. Antecedently to experience, we 



CONSISTENCY. 



323 



should form a fine picture of a youthful stu- 
dent — we should figure him as one whose 
mind was expanding in knowledge — who was 
beginning to taste the sweetness of truth — to 
relish the beautiful and admire the good. 
We should expect him to be animated with a 
just sense of the dignity of his pursuits, to 
breathe their refinement, and. to reflect, in all 
his conversation and deportment, the elevat- 
ing influence of letters. His amusements and 
recreations, we should naturally think, would 
be impregnated with the same spirit. The 
groves in which he walked, the place in 
which he dwelt, we should spontaneously 
image to our fancy, as the abodes of quiet, 
tranquillity, and peace. But how sadly are 
these anticipations too often disappointed. 
w Let him," says the biographer of Bacon, 
" who is fond of indulging in dream-like ex- 
istence, go to Oxford, and stay there ; let him 
study this magnificent spectacle, the same un- 
der all aspects, with its mental twilight tem- 
pering the glare of noontide, or mellowing 
the shadowy moonlight; let him wander in 



324 



CONSISTENCY. 



her sylvan suburbs, or linger in her cloistered 
halls ; but let him not catch the din of schol- 
ars or teachers, or dine or sup with them, or 
speak a word to any of the privileged inhab- 
itants ; for if he does, the spell will be broken, 
the poetry and the religion gone, and the pal- 
ace of enchantment will melt from his em- 
brace into thin air." If the vain and frivo- 
lous agitations of their wit were all that dis- 
figured our seats of learning, the evil would 
not be so intolerable. But how ill do turbu- 
lence, riot, and disorder, boisterous mirth, 
coarse ribaldry and even open profanity, com- 
port with the temple which has been conse- 
crated to letters. The case is immeasura- 
bly worse, when a low standard of opinion 
endures, if it does not sanction, flagrant 
breaches of morality. It is the influence of 
these abuses which, in too many cases, has 
rendered public schools and colleges, in the 
language of Dr. Arnold, u nurseries of vice." 
u Those who are dismissed from the parental 
roof," complains the same illustrious teacher, 
44 frank, open, ingenuous and pure, soon lose 



CONSISTENCY. 



325 



these graces which adorned them, and return, 
to their parent's shame, without modesty, 
without nice sensibility to truth — without 
tenderness and sympathy — coarse, false, and 
unfeeling." This is the natural result of de- 
parting in the first instance from the spirit 
of rigid propriety. Proficere in pejus is the 
law of degradation. When the general feeling 
of fitness is shocked or rudely disregarded, a 
man has taken a step towards the corruption 
of his principles as well as his manners. The 
sentiment of honour is weakened by every 
blow which is inflicted on the sense of pro- 
priety. He that becomes accustomed to what 
is unseemly and unbecoming and out of all 
proportion in lighter matters, will soon lose 
the perception of the beautiful in the weight- 
ier matters of the law. This is the reason 
why it is so important that the amusements 
of the young should be made to harmonize 
with their condition and relations. In these 
amusements a moral discipline is going on, a 
moral influence exerted, which will tell upon 



326 



CONSISTENCY, 



their future character — unconsciously but 
surely they are shaping their destiny. 

Many of these inconsistencies, my young 
friends, I rejoice to say cannot be imputed to 
you, They are of a character to make you 
scorn them. But be not satisfied with pres- 
ent attainments. Let it be your ambition to 
have a college, in, which the deportment of 
every member shall reflect the refinement of 
the gentleman, the dignity of the scholar, and 
the integrity of the Christian. We can make 
this a delightful place — we can turn these 
groves into hallowed ground, and these clois- 
tered halls we can render worthy of the illus- 
trious immortals who linger among them in 
their works. Is not this an object worthy of 
your ambition? Here we are permitted to 
converse, from day to day, with the sages, 
poets, and heroes of antiquity ; " the blind old 
man of Scio's rocky isle," that prodigy of 
genius, whose birth-place was Stagira, whose 
empire has been the world ; that other prodi- 
gy of common sense who brought wisdom 
from the skies — the Divine Plato ; the masters 



CONSISTENCY. 



327 



of the Porch, Academy, and Lyceum, are all 
here. Here, too, we can listen to the rapt vis- 
ions of the prophets, hold converse with apos- 
tles and' martyrs, and above all, sit at the 
feet of Him who spake as never man spake. 
Here, in a single word, we are "let into that 
great communion of scholars, throughout all 
ages and all nations — like that more awful 
communion of saints in the Holy Church Uni- 
versal — and feel a sympathy with departed 
genius, and with the enlightened and the gift- 
ed minds of other countries, as they appear 
before us, in the transports of a sort of beatific 
vision, bowing down at the same shrines and 
glowing with the same holy love of whatever 
is most pure, and fair, and exalted, and Divine 
in human nature." Is there nothing in such 
society and such influences to stimulate our 
minds to a lofty pitch ? Catch the spirit of 
the place, imbibe its noble associations, and 
you cannot descend to the little, the trifling, 
the silly, or the coarse. Every fibre of your 
hearts would cry out against it. When Bona- 
parte animated his troops in Egypt, it was 



328 



CONSISTENCY. 



enough to point to the pyramids, beneath 
whose shadows they stood, and remind them 
that " from yonder heights forty genera- 
tions look down upon them." That thought 
was enough. The same great motive may 
be applied to you. The general assembly of 
all the great, and good, and learned, and glo- 
rious, of all ages and of all climes, look down 
upon you, and exhort you to walk worthy of 
your exalted calling. Quit yourselves like 
men — and make this venerable seat of learn- 
ing a joy and a praise in all the earth. Let 
Truth be inscribed on its walls, Truth wor- 
shipped in its sanctuary, and the Love of 
Truth the inspiration of every heart. 



the end. 



H 157 82 



